


Fear of fire

by LittleRaspberry



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Love, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 31
Words: 37,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4096222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaspberry/pseuds/LittleRaspberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a fire break out in the Red Keep - of the courtesy of the riots in King's Landing - Sansa gets unconscious and are left behind in the burning building. When the Hound realize that no one cares enough to defy the flames and to go back and save her he must overcome his fear of fire to save his Little Bird.</p><p>(It takes place a short while after the battle at Blackwater - so Sandor never left. Why? That's what we're going to find out)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sandor

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt to create a Sandor/Sansa fiction.  
> I'm Swedish, so i beg your pardon if my English is insufficient. 
> 
> This is a fan fiction based on George R.R. Martins work - I own nothing!

Fire. His worst nightmare and fear. The only thing he used to fear - up until recently.

The Reed keep was one fire. It wasn't big and would be under the Kingsguard's control in about an hour. Also, it rained. Whoever did this had not been particularly smart about it.  

Sandor stood with the others; the boy-king, the queen and her children, the servants. No one seemed to be missing, but it was impossible to know that for sure when it was over 500 people in the crowd.

"How in the Seven Hells could this happen?" Joffrey roared. One of the guards who weren't fighting with the fire answered him - apparently some poor idiotic farmers who was tired of the starvings of the war, had tried to assassinate the king with setting the Royal Chambers on fire. They had been caught on their way out of the castle and the attempt had been discovered. The king was saved without a scratch, but the fire had been fueled with Wildfire, and it spread faster than fleas!

Sandor was only thankful that he had already been out of the castle when it caught fire - training in the yard. A little bit late, perhaps, but sleep eluded him these days. Ever since that night ... and the wine didn't help as much anymore. Only the exhaustion from swinging his sword 'til it felt like his arm would fall of would bring him some few hours of undisturbed sleep.

He looked around him, just to have anything other to concentrate on than the smell of smoke and the heat in the air, and that's when he noticed something. Or rather, _didn't_   noticed something. Of all the women who was standing in the courtyard, he would have noticed her hair and figure anywhere. But he didn't. Not a sight of long red hair and pale skin. 

"Where's lady Sansa?" he demanded. 

Joffrey suddenly interrupted his outbreak and looked at Sandor. Then he looked at his mother. Queen Cersei stood with her arms around Tommen and Myrcella and she shrugged a little.

"I don't know, Clegane" she said with calm voice. "She had withdrawn for the night when the guards came to bring me outside. Anyhow, is that really something that should concern you when some monsters have tried to burn your king in his bed?"

"Has no one seen her outside?" he roared without without press item with Cersei's words.

The guards who were with the king shake their heads, the servants looked around and then murmured "no" with shame in their voices.

"She must still be inside!" Sandor yelled and looked at the other guards. They apparently didn't feel the same panic that were oozing in his chest.

"Oh, Clegane, I'm sure it's fine" said Cersei, trying to look concerned, but he could see the little smile that were tugging at her lips. Joffrey was even more casual about it.

"She's either in there or here somewhere. Either way, she will haft to manage on her own."

Sandor were fighting a battle with himself. _No one is going to help her! She can die in there!_  

The thought felt like he had been struck. The Little Bird dead ... no! Someone was going to help her.  _Me?  You're a coward when it comes to fire!_ he scold himself. He could still remember the pain and that awful smell from Gregor's kind gesture so many years ago.  _Would you then doom her to the same fate? To be roasted like a chicken - all her beautiful hair burned away from the scalp, her pale skin melting from her bones ..._

"Fuck no!" he bellowed and started running for the castle gate. 


	2. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is alone in her bed and thinking back on that night at the battle. She remembers her visitor and protector, and what he did for her.  
> Then she smell smoke ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fan fiction. George R.R. Martin owns the world and the characters, the only thing I own is the story.

Sansa was lying in her bed. Her ladies in waiting had retired for the evening and she was alone. For that she was grateful – Shae had her night of this night and she didn't trust the others. All of them except Shae was being held in Cersei's pocket.

It had been a few days since the battle at the Blackwater, and she was actually grateful that Tyrion Lannister had held Stannis' troups at bay until his father had got here with his reinforcements. Not that she thought that Stannis would have hurt her when she was found – Stannis had knew her father and got along with him, even though he had not loved him like king Robert had – but still, she had hard rumors that Stannis had abandoned the ways of the Seven, and was worshipping a new god, the God of flames, and that he had a Red priestess at his side who only had to suggest something to make him do it.

She didn't know if that's was true, it didn't match with the picture her father had always made of Stannis Baratheon, but if it was something she had learn after her time in King's landing it was that everyone could change if it was to their benefit and that everything was not always as it seemed.

She could not help but to think back at that horrible night – when she had thought that all hope was lost and she had run to her room, only to get the doll her father had given her, so she then could find someplace to hide. Anywhere from the men who would soon swarm into the castle to rape women, like Cersei had told her.

And then what had happened with the Hound. Ser Clegane, she corrected herself. She didn't liked Cersei's old nickname, Little Dove, for her, so she doubted that he actually liked to be called the Hound.

But that's wrong too, she thought later. He dosen't want to be a Ser either.

Well, what had happened with … Clegane? Sandor?

Sandor, she decided. Clegane was his family name, but he shared it with that monster, the Mountain. Even if … Sandor was scaring her sometimes and could be harsh, brutal and rude he was nothing like that man, she was certain of it. What kind of person shoved someone else in the fire?

Anyway, she had gotten of the path she started thinking on. That night he had come to her room. He was smelling of wine, smoke, vomit and blood. His ruined face was even more frightening to look at, with dried blood smeared all over his scars, clumps of it in his hair and something else she didn't even wanted to know what it was.

First he had scared her – she thought he had gotten in some battle frenzy and was going to kill her. He had pressed a knife to her throat, warning her not to scream. To only a minute later demand a song from her! Even though she had been terrifed that moment she had felt a crazy impulse to laugh. _He_ must _really be drunk. First I shall be silent, and then I shall sing. Having a fit of descion-agony, Ser?_

Maybe it was that that notion who had gotten her the courage to actually stand up to him. She had given him a song, but not the one he craved. After that she had looked him straight in the eyes and said with her chin high: “You won't hurt me.”

He had barked a laugh at that. “No, I won't hurt you, Little bird.” Strange that she never minded his nickname for her when she loated Cersei's.

“I'm going. Away from the fires. North maybe. I could take you with me, take you back to Winterfell. I know you want to go home, Little Bird. I would keep you safe- no one would hurt you or I'd kill them.”

She didn't doubt it. Not in that moment. Even if he was drunk there was no room for lie in his eyes.

But going home … going home to what? Robb and her mother was at war, Arya was gone and she didn't even know if Bran and Rickon was still in Winterfell. Still … Winterfell was her home. She belonged in the North.

But what if Stannis told her brother and mother that he had not found her, and they thought her dead? So soon after her father? It would break her mother, she knew that.

And what if, by some miracle (if you could call it that) Stannis was actually defeated? Then Joffrey would continue his war with Robb, and she would not knew at all what happened if she run away with the Hound.

_No,_ she thought.  _If that should happen, I must be here for Robb. I'm a Stark too, after all. If Joffrey should win this battle, I must be here to see what he will do. If something major is up I could try to warn Robb. And even if that dosen't work –_ when _my brother win this war, because he must – I can tell him every rotten deed Joffrey has done, so he will pay for it!_

The Hound had been silent when she had her negotiation with herself. But now she looked up and said: “I can't go.”

The Hound snorted and said “Then you are a fool.” But he unfastned his cloak, smelling of smoke and damp with blood smears, and gave it to her.

“Here. Go to the dungeon and hide until the battle is over. You'll be safer there at least. That would keep you warmer.”

He turned to go, but Sansa bursted: “No, please, Ser!”

He turned to her in a rage that got her frigthened again.

“What have I told you, Little Bird?” he rasped with a dangerous voice.

“No Ser” she murmured. “But please … don't leave me here alone. I … I won't stop you from going, and I won't tell anyone … but … can you please stay until … Cersei, I mean the queen said that if they found me alone they would …” she couldn't finish the sentence.

Something dark crossed the Hounds face and he hesitated only a moment.

“Very well, Little Bird.” he said with a sigh, like he was sealing his fate. “I'll stay 'til the aftermath have calmned. But then I'm going. Decide yourself then what you will do. But we can't stay in this room. Here's where they will be looking for someone like you first of all.”

She nodded and the ran for the place in the dungeon where they could hide …

Sansa remembered that night with a shiver. They had hide in the dungeon for days, it seemed, but it was probably just a few hours. They had been silent the whole time, sitting by the dragon skulls, each one in their own thoghts. Then they had heard cheers and shouting: “It's Tywin Lannister! We have won!”

Yes, the Lannisters had won. And the Hound had stayed. They had never talked about that night, and she had never told a soul what had happened. But she had kept his cloak. She didn't knew why. But sometimes when she had trouble sleeping she would curl under it, and remember that feeling, from that night. That no one would rape her or kill her. He would not let them.

Sansa awoke from her thoughts when she smelled something. Something familiar, that she had smelled just a few nights before, and the horror spread in her blood.

Smoke. Smoke and the stench of Wildfire. Had another battle broke out? What was going on?

Her door suddenly burst open, and she rattled to the floor with a shriek. But it was not some mad man from a battlefield standing in her doorway, but one of her ladies in waiting in her nightrobe.

“My lady, Sansa!” she gasped. “The Royal Chamber … a fire has broke out! We have to move to the yard!”

Sansa burst to her feet and ran to the girl. “What's happened? Why is the corridor reeking from Wildfire?” she yelled.

“It was a murder attempt on the king. Come now, my lady, we have to go!”

Despite the fright she felt, she could not help but feel a little smug about what the girl had said about Joffrey. _I hope he got hurt_ , she thought with a sudden lust for blood. _I hope he got wounds worse than the … Sandor._

She ran after her handmaid and they was almost at the stairs who led to the gate when she remembered something. _My doll! And … Sandor's cloak. I left them in the room._

She knew it was insane, she had to get to safety, she had seen what wildfire could do. But it didn't mattered. That doll was the last she had from her father. And the cloak … it was the only thing that could make her feel somewhat safe during her anxious night. She _had_ to have them!

“What are you doing, my lady?” her maid shrieked when Sansa suddenly turned and started running toward her room again.

Sansa didn't answer, and her maid didn't bothered to follow her. She was on her own now, but those things … the Red Keep could burn to the ground for all that she cared, but if those things burned, she would never forgive herself.

While the smoke got thicker and she coughed she ran up the stairs to get her treasures.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my grammar or language if it's lacking.


	3. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor rush into the Red Kepp, even though it's burning. He finds Sansa unconscious at the foot of a stair. But that's not all he finds ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the third chapter. It's going to be a short one, since I'm having a nasty flu right now and not a lot of energy - but I wanted to write it down.
> 
> It's a fan fiction. I own nothing but the story.

Sandor burst open the gate, already feeling the smoke make his eyes water. He ran up the big stair - not feeling the hated fear yet. The other fear inside him was bigger. Maybe that could help him keep his head straight.

He took left and then bolted up another stairs, to get to the the finer quarters, and then stopped dead in his tracks. Here the smoke was as thick as the fog on the ocean before winter broke out, and he could see, at the end of the corridor an orange, blazing light. The fire was not here yet, but it would only take minutes. Seconds if he was unlucky.

Sweat that had nothing to do with the heat started streaming down his face and he was again the six year old boy who felt nothing but an agonizing pain, could not see anything but a too strong, red glowing light. Feel his face melting, while ash flew down his throat because he was screaming of the top of his lungs for it to stop.

By reflex he started to turn, and was nearly half way around again when his closed his eyes hard. _No! Don't you run, you fucking coward! You must find her if she is in here, bring her out! Don't fail her._ _You said you would keep her safe!_

Yes ... he had said that. And he was going to keep that promise. So he started his marsh again, and got up the stairs that led to Sansa's corridor.

 

He found her in the middle of the corridor, lying senseless near a side table with a little blood streaming down one of her temples. _She must have tripped, on her nightgown maybe and struck her head on the corner of the table_

Yeah, he noticed a little blood smear on the table. Fucking piece less shit! But she was breathing, he could see that. _Fight on, Little Bird, I will get you out!_

He kneeled beside her and looked over her wound. It was not deep, but still bleeding. But he , if someone knew that head injuries was always bleeding much. Pycelle had to examine her, but now the had to get out of here! He could feel the heat and the smoke was getting thicker, making it hard to breath. The icing fear was still inside him, but now he had a purpose to concentrate on, making it easier to shut it out.

He scooped her up in his arms, making her groan. "I'm sorry, Little Bird. But you are getting out of this castle, then you can rest."

When he had her in his arms he saw something on the floor. No, two things actually. One thing was that doll she had held in her hands that night when he came to her chamber ( _You rude fuck!)._ In one of the few moments down in the dungeon when they had actually talked she had confined him that it was a doll her father had given her a few days before he was killed. She had also cried a little and told him how she had snorted at him and said that she didn't play with dolls anymore. 

He had not know what to say to that. He didn't know anything of a father's love, but he understood why she wanted to have the doll with her. Like he understood it now - of course she had not wanted the only thing she had after Ned Stark in King's landing stay inside a burning castle.

But what made him frown was the other thing that lay on the floor. It was folded, making it seem smaller than it was, but he would recognize it anyway. It was his cloak - the one he had given her on the same night. What in the Seven Hells was she doing with that now? Had she kept it? But why ...?

He did not understand, but he had no time to think over it more. Apparently the cloak meant something to her (a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire spread inside his chest), like the doll. And he would not fail her. He picked up the doll and placed it on her chest. The cloak he managed to put under his own tunic. He didn't want anyone to know she had it, and he doubted that she wanted it either. She would get it back, but now ... now they had to get out

 

 


	4. Sansa/Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shifting POV - chapter. Hope you like it!

Sansa awoke with a gasp when she felt a cold cloth press against her temple.

“Easy now, my lady” she heard the voice of master Pycelle rasp. “You have a head wound, I don't want you to strain yourself.”

Sansa managed to carefully sit up. She was lying on a silk clad bunk in a big tent. Pycelle saw the question forming in her eyes.

“Yes, yes, not my usual chamber, but until they cleaned out the dirt and the smoke from the Keep we just have to make do with what we got, little lady.”

“What happened?” Sansa said and touched her temple. It hurt a little, and she felt a bandage there.

“You don't remember?” Pycelle asked.

“Well … I remember that the Royal chamber caught fire and …”

“One of your handmaiden said that you rushed back to your chamber when you two were on your way out” Pycelle interjected. “Why would you do that?”

“Well … I … “ Sansa didn't know what to say. She didn't want to tell him that she had gone back for the doll her father given her, considering that would destroy her roll as the obedient girl who thought that her father was a traitor. And she could _definitely_ not tell him that she had a cloak which had belonged to Sandor, which she sometimes slept with, the way a baby slept with a comfort blanket. By the way … were was her things? And how had she got out from the Red Keep?

The last thing she remembered was that she triped on her long nightgown, and a piercing pain in her head.

“I wanted the necklace that Joffrey gave me” she said as answer to Pycelle's question. It was a simple answer, and one he would not feel the need to snoop about.

“Ah, I see” Pycelle murmured. “Foolish, my lady, but I know the ways of love don't always are the wisest.”

“No” Sansa said quietly. “But, master … how did I get out? I … I became unconscious right?”

“Yes, you did” Pycelle said. “You are very lucky, my lady, because no one of us dared to go inside before we knew if the fire was put out, and by then it could have been to late for you. It's the smoke, you see. The fire did was not remotley near you when he got to you, but the smoke could have done a great damage if you were left inside any longer … “

“Who?” Sansa interrupted. “Who got me out?”

“Oh, did I not say that?” Pycelle sounded surprised. “Oh, my, I am getting old. Well it was … the Hound. Ser Clegane. When no one else … dared to go inside he did.”

“Sandor?” Sansa exclaimed.

 

Sandor stood beside Ser Meryn while he was tormented the poor idiots who had set the Royal Chamber on fire. Meryn varied with beating them with his sword and cutting them with it, whatever the boy-king was saying.

Sandor felt a little bad for the farmer who had only wanted to put an end to their starvation in … a little alternative way. But at the same time he could not, in this case feel like they didn't deserve it. Their idiocy had almost killed his Little Bird!

He wondered how she was. He longed to go to the masters temporarily tent and see if she had woken yet. But he could not. If the little brat Joffrey understood how he felt about the Little Bird he was dooming himself, and her to a terrible punishment, of that he was certain.

There had been questions of course, when he had came out with her in his arms, but he had brushed them off with his fake concern for his king. That if Sansa died, they had nothing left on Robb Stark.

Cersei had seemed content with that and Joffrey too. After all, he was their rabid dog. They didn't think he had any feelings that even resembled the ones he had for his Little Bird.  _You stupid old dog. You must really like to suffer. Fall for someone half your age. Like she would even want to touch you …_

He had took her doll, and put it in his pocket when the master motioned for him to take Sansa to his tent, and he still had the cloak. He was going to as her about that, if she would only wake up. 

When he looked it's way he saw that the opening in the masters tent moved, and a pale Sansa walked out. She seemed lost for a moment, then she took of to go to the godswood. He should not disturb her when she had just woke up after that kind of ordeal, but he could not help it.

He was drawn to her like a dog to its bone.  _How ironic_ , he thought.

He excused himself from the bloody scene in front of him, saying that he should walk a turn around the yard to see if everything was alright everywhere else. Joffrey just waved him of, busy with what was happening.

Sandor took off, to go the same way his Little Bird had gone. He felt the doll in his pocket, and the cloak under his tunic.  _ She is probably worried about them. _

 

Sansa sank to her knees in the godswood pretending to pray, but she was not. The thoughts that was spinning inside her head, and she could not concentrate. 

Why had  _ Sandor _ of all people gone inside after her? She knew his secret, even though they had never talked about it. Why risk his own life just to get her? A stupid, naive girl, like he used to call her.

And what had happened with her doll and the cloak. She did not remember anything from the moment she slipped to the moment she woke up, and then they were gone. Had she lost them in there? The sadness at that thought …

“Little Bird.”

She scrambled to her feet with a gasp, surprised to hear his voice. Sandor stood beside her, tall and powerful as always, with his hair combed over the burnt side of his scalp. But something had changed. She was not scared to look at his face any more. He had saved her, even if she did not know why. She owned it to him to at least look him in the eyes when he speaked to her after this. But it was not only that. His face had always frigthened her before, but … somehow it did not now.

“Sandor” she said.

He looked surprised to hear her call him his first name, but said nothing of it. “How do you feel?”

“Alright, I suppose. My head is a little sore but otherwise I'm okay.”

He nodded. They just stood and looked at each other for a few moments. She wanted to ask him why he had gone inside after her, but something felt not right about it. She looked him in the eyes instead.  _ They are nice,  _ she thought.  _ Dark, stormy grey. Kind of like the sky before summer rain. And his smell … _ he smelled a little like the night he had come to her chamber. Of smoke. But nothing from wine and vomit. Just a hint of musk and sweat – maybe from the heat when he had gone inside after her. Her!

Sansa felt something turn inside her stomach, and she felt something else too … something she had only felt once or twice before. A kind of longing between her legs that she could not explain.  She blushed.

Sandor cleared his throat and took something out of his pocket. 

“You dropped this, Little Bird” he rasped and handed over her doll. 

“You found it?”she panted and took it from his hand.

“Yes. It was beside you when … when I found you.”

Sansa looked up at him and opened her mouth. “Yes, master Pycelle said ...”

“But that was not all I found” he interrupted her.

He stretched under his tunic and Sansa's eyes widened. But he only pulled out something from under there. She felt a little disappointed.

He showed her a big piece of material … oh no!

“Care to explain this, Little Bird?” he said. 

 

 


	5. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa discuss her situation with Shae and discovers her actual feelings

Sansa hesitated. She didn't want to tell Sandor the real reason why she kept his cloak – since she didn't really knew it herself. It made her feel safe, made her feel close to him – the way she had been that night. But if she said that he would probably laugh at her until his ribs cracked.

_After all, I'm but a stupid little bird to him. And he is a man. A grown man …_ That feeling came back again, the turning in her stomach and the aching feeling between her legs.

 

She could not tell him, _would_ not. Well, assault is the best defense, or so Arya had always said when she would argue with their septa. She had never thought she would taker after her wild baby sister, but this situation would take drastic measures to handle!

“Why did you went inside to get me, Sandor?”

He growled. “That was not a fucking answer!”

“No, it was a question. So why did you do it?”

“We're not talking about me here! We're talking about _you!_ Why do you have my cloak?”

“Mine.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mine. It _was_ your cloak. You gave it to me that night, remember? So now it is my cloak. What I do with it is my buisness.”

“Bloody hell, Little Bird …”

“But I'll make a deal with you, Sandor.” Sansa said calmly and looked him straight in the eyes.

“A deal?”

“Yes. If you answer my question I will answer yours.”

Sandor hesitated. He seemed to think it over for a second, but then his usual scowl was back on his face.

“I don't have to explain myself to you, Little Bird!”

Sansa sighed. “Then it seems we have reached a dead end. The deal still stands, though. When you feel that you can answer my question you can reach out to me. I will keep my end of the deal. Until then, Sandor.”

She snatched the cloak from his hands and stomped angrily away from him while he gaped after her.

By the end of the day the Red Keep had been cleaned and aired. The most people could move back to their chambers and quarters. The king however was going to have to sleep in his mothers quarters with his younger brother for a while, while his own chambers were renovated. He was not happy about it, but Cersei insistead that she wanted all her children near in this time, and as mostly he listened.

 

Sansa was sitting in her own room, getting her hair brushed by Shae. Shae babbled on about how worried she had been when she heard, and how thankful she was that Sansa was alright, and did her wound hurt? Did she need something for sleep?

“Shae” Sansa interrupted.

“Yes, my lady?” Shae looked up from her hair with the brush lifted.

“How … how do you know if you have … taken affection of someone? And if they have taken affection of you?”

Shae just looked at Sansa for a second or two before she burst out laughing.

“Really, my lady,” she said with an amused and sweet voice. “Are my lady being curious about men? Have you taken a like of someone? That's good. You could really use a little happiness in your life!”

“I don't know” Sansa murmured. “I thought that I was in love with Joffrey at first, but that was just some childish fascination. This … this feel nothing like that.”

“Well, what do you feel?” Shae asked and put the brush away. She sat at the edge of Sansa's mirrortable, and smiled curiosly at Sansa.

“Well … I think about him … a lot. I dream about him at night. When he is not near me I feel … disappointed. When he is there I feel safe. And lately when I talk with him alone … I feel a kind of longing.” Sansa blushed. She had never admitted this to anyone, had really never admitted it to herself. But she could not keep her feelings on a leash anymore. The knowledge that Sandor had gone back after her into the Red Keep despite his fear of the fire had changed something about it all.

“Well” Shae interrupted her thoughts, “that's sounds more thank 'affection' to me. That sounds like the beginning of a crush. Maybe even love.”

Love? Sansa stared dumbfounded at her handmaiden. Love … did she love Sandor Clegane, the Hound? The Lannisters sworn dog?

But he is not just that, anymore, she thought. He protects _me_ , maybe even more than he protects Joffrey. He was going to save me from this hellhole and take me home, he _cares_ about me.

Yes … maybe it was true. Maybe she actually loved Sandor. But did he love her? Like … like a woman? She was a woman now, she had flowered, and she had passed her ten and fifth nameday. But did he see her like that? Or was she just a foolish girl, a stupid little bird that chirped nonsense to him?

 

“But Shae … how do I know if he feels the same?” Sansa asked her handmaiden. She knew that Shae knew much about men, she could probably calm her worry about it.

“Who is this man, my lady?” Shae asked. Sansa blushed.

“If you tell me, it will be easier for me to know” Shae explained. “Then I can determine from his behavior.”

Sansa took a huge breath and opened her mouth to tell her handmaiden, but before she could say anything there was a knock on the door.

“Who's there?” Shae asked with a sharp voice.

“It's Sandor Clegane, the Hound. I wish to speak with Little … with Lady Sansa” came the answer from behind the door.

Shae narrowed her eyes and looked at Sansa who had suddenly turned crimson. She tilted her head to the side and then burst out giggling.

“Well, my lady, a sure sign that your feelings is answered is that you get nightly visitations” she whispered in Sansa's ear before she went to open the door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to make the next chapter a long one. Please leave comment about what you think!


	6. Sansa/Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa tell each other their secrets, which is ending in something not exactly planned ...

Sandor looked at the dark-haired handmaiden who opened the door for him. She smirked in an odd way, and said over her shoulder:

“I will go to the kitchen and take a glass of wine with the kitchen maid. Send for me if you need me, my lady.”

“Yes, Shae” said Sansa, but she did not look at her handmaiden. She looked at him. Her cheeks was pink and there was a strange light inside her eyes. She rose from her chair when he stepped inside her chamber and closed the door.

“This is a surprise” she said with a light voice. “Have you changed your mind about the deal I spoke of?”

Sandor looked at his Little Bird where she stood before her mirror-table in her nightgown and robe. That he visited her this late was definitely not proper, but she did not seemed to mind. She was so fucking beautiful with her red hair combed out and her pale skin glistening on the light from the candles.

“Yes. I want to know. So I will answer your question” he said in a low voice, trying not to see the low neck on her nightgown under the robe. Her fine teats straining against the material. She was certainly not a little girl anymore.

 

She woke him from his thoughts when she started to approach him. “That's makes me glad. Please sit” she said and gestured to the two armchairs in front of the hearth. He sat in one of them, and she sat down beside him, putting one leg over the other, making him see her bare feats. He swallowed.

“So” she started. “Who should begin?”

“You” he said with a firm voice.

“Why me?” she said with a little laugh.

“Because you have had my cloak longer. My secret have barely existed a day. It can exist a little longer.”

Sansa nodded. “Fair enough.”

“I … I kept your cloak after that night because … because it consoles me … at night when I can't sleep I will sleep under it and … and I remember that night when you stayed with me, kept me safe. It helps. It reminds me of you. That you won't let anyone hurt me.”

 

Sandor stared at her. He actually had to touch his chin to make sure that it was not hanging down in his lap. She kept his cloak because it reminded her of him? _Yeah, that's what she said, right dog? Don't read anything into it that isn't there._

“So you just kept it because I make you feel safe?” ha asked in an irritated voice he knew she didn't deserved.

Sansa looked down at her feet. “Not just” she murmured. It felt like he had struck his head into something hard; he felt dizzy.

But before he could make anything of it she looked up again and said with determination:

“Your turn, Sandor.” _(I fucking love when she says my name)._ “Why did you go into the Red Keep after me?”

Sandor looked away. He did not want to answer her, but he had promised, and he hated people who lied.

“Sandor?”

“Seven hells, Little Bird, don't you understand that?”

“No, I don't. I … I know that you fear fire. You told me yourself. Why would you go inside a burning castle just to save some … stupid little bird who chirps nonsense?” He turned his head fiercly at her hard words, but when he looked at her he saw that there was tears in hear eyes and that she was trembling.

“That's all I am to you, right? So why did you save me?”

“You are wrong, Sansa” he said, using her name for the first time. “That is not at all what you are to me.”

“Then tell me! Why did you save me?”

He took a deep breath and then throw all the carefulness overboard. “Because, Sansa … I can't stand the thought to live in a world where my Little Bird no longer exists.”

 

She just sat silent with her mouth open for what must have been a minute. She could not believe what he just had said. But he had said it! He _did_ care for her. Maybe he felt for her what she felt for him.

Sandor looked into the flames, he would not look at her. But then she reached out and put her hand on his arm and his gaze snapped back to her.

“Kiss me” she said with a trembling voice. Not very ladylike, but bugger all that! _And now she was swearing too, only in her thoughts, though, but still. Her mother would have a fit if she knew about it!_

Sandor stared at her first, but only for a second, then he rose from his chair with such a force that it nearly fell to the floor. He made the short way to her chair, pulled her to her feet and then kissed her with so much heat that she thought their lips would caught fire.

He walked her to the wall, pressed her into it, all while he was plundering her mouth. Sansa could not think a coherent thought, she just kissed him back, opened her mouth when his tounge traced the seam om her lips and met it with her own. Sandor was growling, like the animal that gave him his nickname. He moved one hand from her waist and opened her nightrobe to trace the form of her breast on her nightgown.

“Oh, gods!” Sansa moaned. He took away his hand like something had bitten him, but she caught it with her own and put it back.

“Seven hells, Little Bird!” he whispered and caressed the tip of her breast which had gone heard as a spearhed under his hands.

Sansa moved her hands up to his hair and drove her fingers through it. She started kissing the ruined side of his face, and felt him stiffen, but she did not stop. That side was just as much part of him as the other, and she loved it too. She kissed the scars, dragged her lips upon them and then bit lightly where his left ear should have been, had it not been destroyed so many years ago.

Sandor growled again and now he lifted her legs and pulled them around his waist. He stroked the bare skin of her thigh which had been exposed, and backed them toward her bed. They landed onto it with her on him, and started kissing again, with more force, and much more louder. When Sandor's hand stroke all the way up her thigh, almost up to her smallclothes Sansa let out an aroused cry and dug her nails into his shoulders. He chuckled.

“Hush, my Little Bird. We don't want to wake the Red Keep, let alone the wildlings along the wall.”

Sansa smiled at him and looked down into his storm-grey eyes. He was beautiful. He just was.

She wanted to see more of him.

“You are wearing so much clothes … “ she whispered and traced the length of his Kingsguards armor.

Sandor chuckled again, and she was glad she could make him laugh. “That is something that could be taken cared of, Little Bird.”

“Please do.”

 

Sandor rose and started stripping down from his armor, cloak and weapons. He also striped of his tunic when she nodded towards it, but left his breaches on. He did not want to frighten her. He could feel his cock throbbing inside his smallclothes, and if he striped them down he did not know how she would react. He did not even know where this was going, but he was not going to make her feel forced to something.

Sansa gasped at the sight of his bare chest and she reched out her hand and carefully touched the hair there. _Fuck_. He thought he was going to spill inside his pants like some green boy who just saw his first teats. _She will be the death of me._ But he let her explore, let her stroke his chest, his abdomen, all the way down to his groin … he moaned.

“You are magnificent” she whispered. She crept closer on the bed, putting her lips to one of his scars, stroke it light with her tongue.

“Shit!” he gasped. Who the hell could have thought this little chirping bird was so bold?

She took his hand and dragged him down on the bed again, on top of her, and then he was kissing and nibbled her neck. _What in the Stranger's name are we doing?_ he thought foggy. _She is the kings betrothed, and you are just a dog._

But he could not stop. Not when he finally had his Little Bird under him, kissing him, moaning his name, while he tasted her skin. _Fuck that little shit. She is mine!_

Finally his hand was under her nightgown and he felt her smallclothes. They were damp against his hand. _It's for me. She is getting aroused by me!_

He stroked her hidden sex through them, and she cried out again and lifted her hips from the bed to press them against his hand. Carefully he put a finger past the smallclothes and felt her bare mound, and was rewarded with another cry. He chuckled.

“Sandor?” Sansa moaned.

“Yes, Little Bird?” _Anything. I will do anything you want me to._

“Will you … will you you please make love to me?”

Well … he had not exactly thought she was going to ask him to do that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	7. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a little talk, Sandor makes love to Sansa

Before Sandor had even thought about an answer there was a quiet knock on the door. Sansa gasped. “We did not lock!”

Sandor scrambled to his feet and searched for his sword when there was a low whisper behind the door.

“It's me, Shae, my lady. I have something you may need.”

“By the love of the mother, she has a sense of timing” Sansa grumbled, and got to her feet. She made her way to her door, straightening her clothes and drove her fingers trough her ruffled hair.

She opened the door just a gap. “Yes, Shae?”

“Well, it seems that someone is having a good time” the handmaiden said with a giggle. “Good thing I decided to come now, then.”

“Shae, please” Sansa said with an embarrassed tone. “What is it?”

“Oh, I got something I thought you maybe would need” the handmaiden said and gave Sansa something. Sheets, it turned out when Sandor looked closely. Shit!

“And I would also tell you to lock the door this time, my lady. Have a good night! I'm off to have a a little fun of my own!” and with another giggle the handmaiden closed the door.

Sansa did not hesitate, she followed her handmaidens advice and turned the key in the keyhole. Then she turned to him with a shy smile. She showed him the sheets. “Well … I guess we don't have to worry about that, then …” she looked down at her feet and her cheeks turned crimson. She was so goddamn pretty when she was embarrassed.

“I don't know if I shall be thankful to your rude handmaiden or place her at the same place as the boy-king, in my mind: people who drive me mad!”

Sansa giggled and droped the sheets in one of the armchairs and then walked over to the bed again. “Yes, Shae can be a little forward at times, but she is my friend. The only one of my handmaidens that actually care.”

“Then she is one of my new favorite persons, Little Bird.” Sansa smiled at that.

“Sansa ...” Sandor started, “we don't have to do this now. You are so young, this is all new to you, and I will probably hurt you … “ he had never had a maiden before, but he have heard other men talk about it – how their wives (or the maiden whores you could buy for a small fortune) have cried and the blood afterwards … he wanted to take his Little Bird, lay a claim on her, know that it was his cock that hade made her a woman whole and full, but he did not want to hurt her.

“You … you don't want to? You don't want me?” Sansa's hand clenched to fists and her voice trembled. Sandor cursed and went over to her, laying his hands on her shoulders.

“Little Bird, right now I want you more than I wanted anything in my entire life! But you are the king's betrothed. (He growled inside him a the thought) How are you going to explain to him that you are not a maiden at your ...”

“Don't say it!” Sansa interrupted. “I don't want to think about that monster when I am with you, but since you brought it up, I will tell you exactly what I am thinking. Sandor, I am maiden, yes. I want my first time to be good, like every other woman. Do you seriously think that Joffrey will make it good for me? Gods no. If he even know what to do, that is. He seems more content with threatning people and beat them than … fuck them.”

Sandor gasped when he heard his Little Bird curse. That was something new. And sexy as hell. His cock got even more harder, how the hell that could even be possible when they were talking about that shit-faced brat.

“Anyway … what says I am even going to live that long? To mine and Joffreys wedding? I have heard the gossip around court. Robb is advancing, he may win – and if he do that, Joffrey will kill me, despite what Cersei says. He did not care about her advice when it came to my father, why would he do that with me? And if that happens … I want to know that I have been truly happy just once in King's landing. And that I have made you happy as well. If you think I can do that, that is ...”

Sandor was speechless. It was horrible for him to stand and listen while his Little Bird talked so casually about her own death. But he knew she was right. Robb Stark was slowly but certainly winning the war, and when that would happen there was no tell of what Joffrey might do to Sansa.

In that moment he made two promises to himself. Ha used to hate promises and vows, because after what he'd seen, no one was keeping them anyway, but he was going to keep his, even if it killed him.

He would get his Little Bird out of King's landing. She had not wanted to go with him the first time he asked, but he could not blame her. Who the hell wanted to go with a drunk, scary dog who had held a knife to her throat ( _You have to cut down on the wine, dog!)._

And two. He would give her what she wanted. He would make love to her, and he'll be damned if she did not peak her first time.

“Sandor?”

He looked down on her and smiled. “Yes, you will make me happy Little Bird.”

Her whole face lit up with a glow, and she dragged his face down to hers and kissed him with a force he had not thought she was capable of. When the parted to get air she said a little shyly:

“Sandor … I don't really know what to do … can you show me?”

He chuckled at that. “Oh yes, I will show you Little Bird. But it's not about me now. You are a maiden. I have never been with one, but I know that you will hurt.” She nodded and bit her lip.

“So to make it as easy as possible for you _I_ have some job to do. Have to make you ready. Ready for this ...” he was not sure if it was a good idea, it might scare her, but he wanted her to know how much he craved her, so he took her hand and put it on top of his erection through his breeches. Her eyes widened and her lips parted when she sucked in a breath.

He smiled at her and said “take of your nightgown for me, Little Bird. I want to see all of you while I give you pleasure.”

Sansa dragged her nightgown over her head, and then stood almost naked in front of him. His breath caught in his throat. _She_ was the magnificent one. She hugged herself, trying to hide her breast from his view.

“Don't hide from me, Little Bird. You are beyond beautiful.” She gave him a shy smile.

He gently pushed her toward the bed. “Lie down, Little Bird. You can keep your smallclothes on if you want, for now.”

She nodded and lay herself on the bed. He placed herself over her and started kissing her again. He nibbled her lower lip, met her tongue with his own. He stroke her thigh with one hand, and combed through her hair with the other. Sansa made a little sound that showed him that she liked it.

He was hard as a rock now, and all he could think about was that he wanted to rip her smallclothes off and push himself inside her. But he would not. _Take your time, dog. This is about her, not about you!_

He lowered his face to her chest and placed some light kisses on her breast, making her gasp. That made him smile, because it told him she would love what he had planned next. Gently he stroke her hard nipple with his tounge, only to suck it inside his mouth a moment later.

“Gods, Sandor, what are you doing?” she moaned. _Making you feel good, Little Bird_ he thought with an inner smirk.

He sucked lightly on her nipple while playing with her other breast with the other hand. He was soon rewarded when her hands found his head and she pressed him closer. “Don't stop. Please!”

_Don't plan to fucking stop, Little Bird. Not yet anyway._

He altered between her breasts, with his hands and his mouth but never stopping entirely. She ground her pelvis against his thigh and he could feel the dampness through her smallclothes. That did it for him. He had to try something he had never tried before.

 

Since Sandor only had fucked whores in his pasts he had never pleasured a woman with his mouth. He did not want to place his mouth somewhere where the whole King's landing had been, but Sansa was different. She was pure as the first snow of winter. He had never done it before, but he was not deaf – he had heard a lot about it from other men, discussing wives, mistresses and kitchen girls.

He kissed his way down her stomach and placed his hands on her hips. “Can I take this of, Little Bird?”

He gently tugged a little at her smallclothes.

She nodded, flushed and gorgeous. He smiled and placed another kiss on her stomach before he gently lowered her smallclothes. By the Maiden's teats, they were fucking drenched with her juices, and she smelled divine!

He tossed her smallclothes on the floor and just looked at his Little Bird, all naked before him for the first time. Her face was rosy, her hair a little tousled and she had marks after his kisses on her breasts. Her skin was milky white, and fire-red curls, just like her hair covered her sex. He doubted that the Maiden herself could have been more beautiful.

 

He pushed at her knees a little, making her open for him before he lowered his mouth.

“Sandor, what are you … OH!”

_Fuck_ , he thought while he gently stroked her with his tongue.  _Dornish wine cannot compare to this!_

“Sandor … oh, gods, please! I … I don't think … OH! … that's really … proper ...”

He smirked and looked up at her. “Always the proper one, Little Bird? Well forget about it. I wan't your honey all down my throat, and I want you to enjoy it.”

Without any warning he sucked in her hard little nub inside his mouth, and felt her press her hips against his mouth while she screamed.

He was a little worried that someone might hear, but he soon forgot it. Sansa was begging him not to stop, pressed her sex against his mouth. He flicked her little nub with his tounge and carefully pushed a finger inside her to open her up a little for later.

“OH, GODS!” Sansa shrieked. “Sandor, I … I need … I have to ...” He understood what was about to happen and flickered his tounge with more force and pushed his finger gently inside out.

“HOLY MOTHER AND MAIDEN” Sansa yelled when she reached her peak. He felt her inner walls clench around his finger and a new wetness against his face. He helped her through her orgasm, continued his motion until she exhausted sank back against the pillows. Then he rose to his knees, wiped his face with the back of his hand and smiled down at her.

“Liked that, Little Bird?”

“Y-yes ...” she sighed. “Gods … was that …?”

“You peaked, yes” he smiled.

“It felt fantastic” she said dreamily.

“Good. I wanted you to feel fantastic. But now … are you ready for me, Little Bird?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, Sandor. I … I want to feel you inside me. I want you to feel the same as I did.”

That sentence alone almost brought him down, but he managed to keep upright. He rose from the bed and stripped of his breeches and smallclothes. Sansa's eyes widened when she saw his engorged manhood, wet with pre-cum against his stomach.

“Can I ...” she started but interrupted herself.

“What, Little Bird?” he asked.

“Can I … touch it?” she whispered. He thought he was going to spill then and there.

“If you want to.”

“I want to” she whispered and reached out her hand. He walked closer to her, and her fingers curled around his cock. _Seven Hells!_

She stroke around it with her fingers, from the head all the way down to the base. “It's so soft … but so hard at the same time” she said with a fascinated voice. He chuckled.

“Do you want that, Little Bird? Do you want me?”

She looked up at him and nodded. “I want you too. More than I ever wanted anything else. But you have to tell me if you are hurting and want me to stop. Will you do that?” She nodded again.

“Good.”

He lowered himself over her again, positioned his cock against her entrance. He kissed her again, and rolled his hips against hers a few times, to make her a little more ready. She moaned and her sex was dripping with her juices. He did not think he could delay it anymore, so he pushed inside her in a gently stroke, and immediately froze when she cried out on pain.

“Little Bird?” he whispered.

She opened her eyes and he saw tears there. _Fuck, I cannot do this to her._ He slowly started to push out to leave her be, but she shook her head.

“No, Sandor, please … just … just go slowly?”

“Stupid Little Bird” he whispered in a tender voice, but did as she said. He slowly pushed inside her again, all the way to the hilt and felt her tense again.

 

He hated himself for hurting her, but by the fifth time he pushed inside her she had relaxed somewhat and by the seventh time he felt her start to move with him. He never thought she would do that, but she did. She moaned and dug her nails in his back. He speed up a little and was rewarded with another moan.

Soon he felt his own peak coming, but he wanted her to come again; with him inside her. It would not be easy, but he would try. He brought his hand down to her sex and flicked her little nub while he lowered his mouth to her neck and sucked lightly.

“Sandor!” she moaned and he felt her sex clench around his cock, and that was his undoing.

“FUCK, LITTLE BIRD” he roared and pounded into her.

“My name, Sandor, say it!” she panted and dragged her nails along his back so hard he felt the wetness of blood there.

“Sansa!” he yelled when he felt his balls draw up against his body and his seed shot inside her.

Exhausted he slumped down, but was careful not to crush her with his weight. Sansa purred like a content little kitten and hugged him tightly.

“Sandor?”

“Hmm, Little Bird?” he murmured against her ear.

“I love you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	8. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter about what happens after their lovemaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be a short one. I'm planning something big for next. Be patient! :)

Sansa had fell asleep at Sandor's chest after her confession, but he gently shook her awake after an hour or two.

“I must go, Little Bird. It will not look good for any of us if I'm found asleep naked in your bed in the morning.”

Sansa felt disappointed, but nodded. She knew he was right.

“Will … will I see you again? Alone, I mean?” her voice trembled a little.

Sandor had started to lace up his tunic, but at her question he stopped and turned to her with a a surprised look.

“Sometimes you really are a silly little bird” he said. “Of course you will. Did you think this was just a one time-happening? Sansa, you are _mine!_ ”

 

Sansa felt the warmth of love spread inside her chest. It may not have been a declaration of love, but this was Sandor Clegane, after all.  _ It will do. For now _ , she thought with a smile.

Sandor rose from the bed, putting his armor on again. Sansa dragged her nightgown over her head and then stood before him.

“I guess I'll see you in court, then” she said, pretending to sound casual. Sandor chuckled.

“Oh, you'll be seeing me much more often than that, Little Bird. But yes, I will see you tomorrow in court.” He pressed his lips to her, and kissed her hard. She moaned at the taste of him, and even though she felt sore after their lovemaking his fierce kiss started another kind of ache between her legs.

“Sweet dreams, Little Bird” Sandor smiled when they parted. He stroke her cheek, and then he was gone. The door closing silently, and the blood stains on her sheets was the only thing convincing her that she had not dreamt it all.

She went to her wash bashin, wetting a cloth in the now cold water and cleaned herself between her legs and on her thigs. There was a little smear of blood and a _lot_ of Sandor's release leaking out of her. _I have to ask Shae to bring me Moon Tea tomorrow._

When she had washed herself she dragged the sheets from the bed, not knowing what to do with them. Her common sense told her to toss them into the fire, but she could not do that.

Sandor had told her that this would not be an one-time-event, and she belived him, but this time was special. What he had did for her … no girl ( _no, I'm a woman now_ ) could ask for a better experience.

She put the blood stained sheets inside her trunk, at the bottom, with Sandor's white cloak.

 

She made the bed, kind of clumsy with the sheets Shae had brought. She was not used to it, but she had seen many handmaidens do it over the year, and when she finished it looked okey. Not like a handmaiden had done it, but she would still lay there for the rest of the night. If anyone asked she could tell them that she had had a nightmare, and been tossing in the bed.

She looked out at the sky. It was still dark, but a small light was growing in east. It would be morning soon. And then, she would see Sandor again.

Content with that she went to bed, closed her eyes and hoped she would be dreaming of him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be a while before the new chapter comes out - since I'm needing new glasses. To be half blind when writing is not something I recommend ;)


	9. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor is in court when Joffrey summons Sansa. The boy-king has a surprise coming ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not help it - I wanted to write this down even though I don't have my glasses. So now, I have a splitting headache, but I hope that you guys like it!

Sandor stood in the Great Hall, beside the boy-king who was sitting on the iron throne. He tried to stand still and not look for Sansa like a love stricken ten year old, but it was hard. He hardly paid any attention to what was going on.

Soon he saw her enter the Great Hall. She was wearing a violet gown with high neckline and her hair was all down, for once. _Probably to hide the marks you made on her neck and breasts last night, you possessive dog._

But he didn't regret it. He had had her now, she was _his_. _And she fucking loves me!_

He wished he had said it back to her, but saying such things was hard for him. He had not said it to anyone since … it must have been before his little sister died.

He did not want to think about that so he focused on Sansa again. She stood with some of the ladies in waiting and listened to Joffrey bark at some poor markets-man ( _And they call me dog)_. But she glanced at Sandor from the corner of her eye from time to time and each time her face lit up, even though she did not change her face a bit.

 

“Lady Sansa” Joffrey said in a high voice when he had dismissed the markets-man. “Come forward.”

Sandor felt a fear spread in his veins, kind of like the fear from that night with the fire. What was up now? He did not like Joffrey's tone, it was far to sweet. _That's never a good sign._

Sansa walked up to the dais and knelt. Joffrey motioned for her to stand up. “Your Grace” she said.

“How is your head, my lady?” Joffrey said, trying to sound concerned. Sansa lightly touched the wound in her temple that had begun to heal.

“It's better, Your Grace.”

“That's good. We can not have you feeling bad around here, not when there is something _wonderful_ about to happen!” Joffrey emphasized the word, making it sound more like something threathening.

Sansa paled. “I … I don't know what you mean, Your Grace.”

“No, of course, how could you? It just so happens that your traitor brother has recently married Roslin Frey, daughter of Walder Frey. The lord of the twins. So, natuarlly Lord Frey now supports your brother.”

Sansa held her mask, not trembling. Not yet, but Sandor could see the fear in her eyes. He wished he could do something, but if he did he would doom them both. Where was this going?

“I'm sorry about that, Your Grace” Sansa said carefully.

“Yes, so am I. I could have used Frey on my side. But I have a better idea now. My mother said this morning that you had your flowering a short time ago, is that not correct?”

Sansa blushed and Sandor wondered why the fuck that mattered, was that something that the whole court had to know?

“Yes, Your Grace” Sansa said in a silent voice.

“That's good. So I will bring an end to this war once and for all and marry you and put a son in you. If your brother really loves his sister he will not bring a war to her – because natuarlly I must stay with you when you carry my child.”

 

Sandor ground his jaw so hard he thought that his molars would break. So that was what the little fuck-wit had planned? He was going to hide beneath Sansa. _And he is going to rape her! Fuck, no, I can't let that happen!_

He touched his sword, ready to take the boy-king on, but Sansa caught his eyes with her on, and carefully shook her head.

She was pale like a corpse, but she held her head high and silently said to Joffrey. “I understand, Your Grace. When … when will we marry?” her voice trembled little at the end, but otherwise you could not say what she was thinking.

“In a week, not more” Joffrey said. “The servants need a little time to make the arrangements, but in one week you will be my wife. And gods help me if you are not pregnant after our weeding night.”

_He is fucking crazy,_ Sandor thought.

“Yes, Your Grace” Sansa said.

“Good. You may leave. I must go to the small council.”

Sansa knelt again, and then walked out of the Great Hall. Sandor looked after her.

Joffrey rose from the iron throne and started walking to the council chamber. Ser Meryn and ser Boros followed him, but Sandor started to walk to the other exit. He had to talk to Sansa!

“Dog!” Joffrey shouted. “Where are you going?”

Sandor stopped.  _One day I'll fucking gut your little shit face_ , he thought while he slowly turned around.

“To take a shit” he barked angry.

Joffrey laughed. “Ah. Alright, I guess even dogs need their breaks. Go on, then.”

Sandor did not answer, he just marched out from the Great Hall and hurried along the corridors to Sansa's chamber.

 


	10. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor goes to visit Sansa in her chamber after Joffreys announcement. They make a decision, only to fall into each others arms

Sansa sat in one of her armchair, digging her nails into her hands. She had dismissed Shae, said that she wanted to be alone. As soon as the door closed behind her handmaiden she felt the tears she had hold off since the Great Hall start to flow.

 

She had been so happy when she woke up this morning. She had looked in the mirror and seen the marks Sandor had made last night, feeling proud that he had marked her, called her his. Shae had just laughed when she saw them and said that they would keep her hair down today to hide them.

Her heart had made a little jump when she saw him in the Great Hall, standing beside the great iron throne, tall and fierce. But his face had softened when he had seen her. _He maybe does not love me yet, but he feels something for me_ , Sansa had thought.

 

Joffreys announcement had felt like a slap to the face. Not so much because he said that they would marry and he would breed her like a horse – she was used to his threats even if the thought that she would belong to Joffrey and not Sandor now made her heart ache. The worst part was that Sandor heard all of it. Heard that she soon would have to carry Joffrey's child inside her. How could he want to touch her then? _I can't do it_ , she thought. _I won't let Joffrey touch me so that I can bring another Joffrey into this world. I would rather throw myself from the Far Balcony._

 

She heard her door open, and said with a trembling voice: “Please, Shae, I really want to be alone.”

“Is that so, my lady?” she heard a familiar voice rasp, and she turned her head and saw Sandor standing in her doorway. He closed the door and then locked it.

Sansa rose from her chair, not knowing what to say. “Sandor ...” she begun, “I could not refuse him. And I could not let you attack him in front of the whole court.”

“Fuck that, Little Bird.” Sandor said. “But I wont be of any use to you in a dungeon. Listen, Little Bird. You said no once, but it's different now. Do you really want to stay here, in King's Landing?”

Sansa did not even had to think. “No” she said. “But Robb …”

“Oh, screw your brother” Sandor roared. “He is your brother, and you love him, therefore I shall not say anything about him, but he have left you here, like a lamb to the slaughter. You don't owe him this. He is king of the North, he can manage. I could take you to him, to your mother.”

Sansa looked at him with tears in her eyes. “And then what? Where will you go? You will be a traitor to the Lannisters ...”

“You think I care about them, Little Bird? Fuck the Lannisters. What I care about is keeping you safe!”

Sansa smiled a little, she could not help herself. “Will you stay with me afterward, then? If we get to Robb? I don't want to lose you.”

Sandor lifted his hand and stroke her cheek. “I will. Maybe we can convince your brother to make me your sworn sword. You will be needing that, being a princess of the North.”

“Or maybe we can make you my husband” Sansa blurted out.

 

Silence followed, while they were just staring at each other. Then Sandor sucked in a breath and said:

“Fuck, Little Bird, I want you. I want to feel my cock inside you, erase all pictures of Joffrey laying a hand on you!”

Sansa felt her eyes widened, and the longing between her legs were back.

“Please, Sandor, do it. I want you too, I want to feel you, feel that I belong to only you.”

“But are you ready for me so soon after the first time? Are you still hurting?”

“It hurts _not_ to have you right now!”

Sandor smiled, a wicked grin that used to frighten her, but right this moment it sent a fire through her blood, and she felt wetness begin to build between her legs. She reached behind her back to start to lace upp her dress, but Sandor caught her arms and shook his head.

“No, Little Bird, keep it on. I want to show you my favorite position of love making. I think it will feel different for you too.”

He pushed her towards the end of the bed and gently made her bend her back and place her hands at the foot of it.

He smelled her hair, kissing her neck and sucked gently on her earlobe, making her moan. Then he sunk to his knees behind her, reaching under her dress and pulled her smallclothes down.

“Hold your skirts up, my Little Bird” he whispered. Sansa obeyed, dragging her skirts up.

“You liked the way I licked you last night, Little Bird? Like a good dog?”

“Yes” she whispered with a trembling voice.

“You are in for a real threat, then” he chuckled. “Because I will do it again, now. Only now I will do it from behind.”

 

He spread kisses along her legs, on the back of her knees and thighs, making her pant. Then he gently kneaded the flesh of her buttocks and stroke her with his tongue from a whole new angle.

_My … my bottom is in his face_ , she thought with a shock.  _That can't be nice!_

But he didn't seem to mind. He just lapped at her, like he was licking honey from the end of a cup, and she soon forgot about her worries. She gasped and moaned at the feeling, only to cry out when he pushed a finger inside her.

“Please, Sandor ...” she gasped. “More!”

He chuckled, the vibrations against her heated flesh almost making her jump. “More, Little Bird? Oh, yes, I will give you more. But not yet.”

He added a second finger inside her, scissoring them, hitting some hidden spot deep withing her she had not know she had. The feeling made her jump over the edge, and she cried out again, her legs stiff and wetness running down her thighs.

“That's my girl” he said with a satisfied voice. “ _Now_ I will give you more.”

She felt boneless, not able to look over her shoulder, but she heard him unbuckle his belt, and the rustle of clothes. Then he was behind her making her bend forward a little more. Then she felt his cock against the opening of her sex. From behind. _Just like horses_ , she thought. _He is not a dog, he is a stallion!_

 

Sandor pushed inside her, making her groan. “Shit, Little Bird” he rasped. “So tight, so wet for me ...” he begun thrusting in and out of her, hitting that hidden spot again with each time, making her moan and gasp his name. It felt so different this time. There was no pain, but it was not just that, it felt different from this angle. Not better, perhaps but … deeper.

Sandor increased his speed, groaning behind her. “I can't last much longer, Little Bird. Your tight little cunt is milking me, it's desperate for my seed ...”

He nibbled at her neck and brought one hand down her sex, rubbing that little nub, making the feeling increase. All while he pounded into her.

All this combined made Sansa peak again. Her whole body stiffened, her sex clenched around Sandor's cock and she gasped for a huge breath, ready to scream out her release.

Sandor understood again, or maybe he felt it, the way she was clenching around him. He moved one hand up to cover her mouth. “There you go, Little Bird. Now scream for me. Scream for your man!”

That was all the encouragement she needed. She screamed of the top of her lungs while Sandor hammered his hips against her, grunting almost as loud as her scream.

“ _Sansa_ ” he yelled, going completely still against her while she felt his explosion deep inside her. It made her sigh with satisfaction. She leaned back against him, while he was still inside her.

“Sansa?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me your thoughts!


	11. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their second love-making Sandor and Sansa begins to plan their escape from King's Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be a short one, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

It felt like he stood with her in his arms for an eternity, her arms wrapped around him from the front. He was still inside her, even though his cock had begun to soften.

A noise from the corridor made them wake up from their own little world, and they looked at each other in surprise. Sansa gazed down at her skirts that were fisted in her hands, at her smallclothes that lay on the floor, and Sandor's bare legs.

“Oh” she said with a little giggle. “You know, I don't think this is a situation suited for a Lady.”

Sandor chuckled and kissed her behind her ear. “I don't see a lady in here. I only see a Little Bird which have just been brought to pleasure by a dog.” Sansa blushed.

“And even if it was fantastic I think we need to talk a little more before I go back to that little shit.”

Sansa nodded. Sandor slowly withdrew from her, watching her go to the wash basin and clean his cum from between her legs. Then she tossed the rag into the fire. He dragged his breeches on again, buckled his belt while Sansa picked up her smallclothes.

 

“Alright, Little Bird. So, you are going with me?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes” she said. “When?”

“Tonight, I think. The sooner, the better. Best not to linger about it. I have the afternoon off, I will make time to get supplies then.”

“How will we travel? With ship?”

“No, Little Bird” he said. “Too easy to find if the words of your whereabouts get out from the ship's crew. No, we will travel with horse.”

“I trust you know best about these things, Sandor” Sansa said with an earnest voice, “but I'm not a good rider.”

“I know that. But you'll have to sit in front of me. We'll only take one horse – my horse, Stranger. Two horses is more easy to track.”

“Alright.”

“Pack lightly. But warm clothes, since we sometimes maybe have to sleep in the open. Jewelry you can sell if it will come to that. Soap. And the doll. I know you'll want that with you.” He smiled.

“Yes” she said with a little smile of her own. _And your cloak_ , she mentally added.

Sandor kissed her forehead. “I hate to part from you, Little Bird, but soon they will start looking from me.”

“Yes, I understand. Go.” She gave him a gentle push against the door.

Sandor went to the door and unlocked it. Then he looked over his shoulder at her and said:

“Remember, warm clothes, Little Bird. But take one of your better gowns with you. Nothing over-fancy, but a nice one.”

“Why?” she said looking surprised.

“Oh, I thought that you perhaps would like to have one to wear when we reach a septa, in a safe distance from King's Landing. You said you wanted me to be your husband. I probably should ask your brother and mother about your hand first, but in my experience it is always better to do the deed first and ask later” he grinned at her, enjoying the surprised look on her face.

Sansa just gaped at him first. But then she let out a shriek of happiness, flung herself over the floor into his arms, kissing him hard.

“You will? You want to? You will be my husband?” she said between her tears of happiness.

“Have I not made it clear, Little Bird?” he chuckled. “You are _mine_! Dogs mate for life, you know that?”

“So do wolves” Sansa said and gently bit his ear.

“You're right about that. And birds, too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	12. Sansa/Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Sandor make their preparations to leave King's Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter about their preparations, and a very sweet gesture from Sandor!

Sandor left her after another quick kiss. Her stomach felt a little like a volcano, both from nervousness and from happiness.

She found a traveling bag inside her closet and started packing. Her fur cloak she had had in the north, cotton and wool dresses instead of the silk ones she always wore here in King's Landing. Warm stockings, her doll and Sandor's cloak. She spend a long time looking over her jewelry, deciding which ones could make good money and those which were just beautiful. She also put a lot of time in deciding which dress she would take for their wedding ceremony (her heart jumped at the thought).

After a while she decided on a golden colored cotton gown with heart-shaped neckline. It would go nice with her hair, and it would be a fine likeness to her new colors. She would soon be Sansa Clegane.

She smiled to herself and then sat in her armchair with her embroidery. She would take that with her as well, because she had thought on a wonderful wedding present to Sandor.

 

 

Sandor was walking in the market a few blocks away from the Red Keep. He didn't want to bump into anyone he knew, so he watched his surroundings with suspicion. But he didn't see anyone familiar.

He bought food that would last long without go bad; dried meat, cheese, dried fruit, bread, water and ale. He also bought extra thick bedspread and blankets. He knew Sansa was often frozen, but that would not do on their trip.

After he was done he walked past a jewelry stand. He knew it was stupid – they would need all the money he had, but he could not help himself. He wanted to buy Sansa an engagement gift.

Since this was the market there was mostly cheap jewelry, but the man had some finer ones. Sandor wanted to buy her a diamond ring, fitting for the lady she was, but if he did that they would not be able to stay in any inns along the way. And that was not fitting for a lady either.

_What the fuck am I doing?_ he thought.  _I'm just the second son of a minor house – and a goddamn ugly one at that too. And I have promised Sansa Stark that I will marry her! I'm not worthy of her. She deserves so much more!_

And now he was looking for engagement gifts. Sandor fucking Clegane – the Hound. _Gregor would laugh his arse off if he could see me now._

He ground his teeth at the thought of his brother. But then again, Gregor had been married three times, and every time his wife had met a mystical death. Robert Baratheon had rather fucked whores than his wife (not that Sandor could blame him. Who in the Seven hells wanted to fuck a woman that was an expert to geld men with just a gaze?). Even the honorable Ned Stark had brought home a bastard and made his Lady wife watch him grow up with their true-born sons.

 

Yeah … he doubted that a _real_ Lord rather than a minor one would actually be worthy of Sansa either. Truth be told, she had been betrothed to the prince, who had treated her worse than the horses in the stables.

_It's me she loves. And I love her. More than anything else. I'll do everything to be worthy of her._

 

Sandor became aware that the man in the stand looked at him in a strange way. Had he asked him a question?

“What?” he said.

“I just said, that this one might suffice, my lord? Nothing spectacular, but elegant and feminine.”

He was a holding a ring made of white gold, with a single stone; rose quartz. Sandor pictured if on Sansa's hand. It would go nicely with her pale skin and red hair.

He nodded. “I'll take it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me your thoughts!


	13. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their escape

Sansa altered between sitting in one of her armchairs and pacing on the rug in front of the fire. It was long past dusk and Sandor should had been here by now.

She had changed into her nightgown, said goodnight to Shae and crept into bed. She had wanted to give her dear handmaiden a hug, but she dared not to do it. No one could know that something was different this night. Not even Shae.

 

As soon as her door had shut she had counted to hundred and then risen from her bed again. She had changed into plain clothes and riding boots, but kept her nightrobe on, just in case anyone should come in unannounced.

Her traveling bag was packed and hidden under her bed. Everything was ready to – especially her. So where was Sandor?

 

The thought had barely left her before there was a short knock on the door. Short, but powerfull. She knew it was Sandor, but she also knew that he would be angry if she not made sure of that.

“Who is it?” she said in a low voice, pretending to sound tired.

“It's me, Little Bird” said the familiar, rasping voice she had grown to love so much. She hurried to open the door, but frozen when she saw two figures standing in the corridor.

It was Sandor, her one love, but by his side he had a woman. A young woman, maybe ten and seven with red hair. Who was she?

She stared wildly at them. Would Sandor bring another woman on this journey? It felt like a rusty knife cut through her belly and her blood started boiling.

“Who is this?” she said, with a voice that sounded like ice.

Sandor glanced at the woman at his side and said: “She is you, Little Bird.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Little Bird, let us inside and I will explain. It's dangerous to talk here in the corridor.”

Sansa felt confused, hurt and angry, but she stepped aside and let Sandor and the unknown woman inside her chamber. The woman didn't say a word, she just stood on the floor, looking down at her feet.

Sandor went straight to Sansa, but she stepped to the side so he could not reach her. “Tell me what she is doing her first” she said with a firm voice. Sandor looked at her with and odd gaze. It almost seemed as if _he_ felt hurt. _Seven save me, what is_ he _being hurt about?_

 

“This is … well, she said her name, but it dosen't really matter” Sandor started.

“Tyleen” the unknown woman said with a faint voice.

“Like I said, I don't really give a shit” Sandor rasped at her before her turned to Sansa again. “She works in one of the brothels by the dock. Not Littlefingers.”

“So?!” Sansa said, not being able to hide her anger anymore. Had he brought one of his former lovers with him, into her chamber?!

“She will take your place, in your bed tonight. Tomorrow, when your handmaidens come to wake you she will hide her face in the pillows and complain about migraine. She will request to be left alone in a dark room rest of the morning. And your Shae will see to that she will. When she finally rises and people discover that she is not you, it will be to late. This buy us a very important head start.”

 

Sansa let out a breath she had not relaized she was holding. This woman was not coming with them. She was buying them time. She was not one of his former whores. She suddenly felt deeply ashamed. _Now I understand why he felt hurt._

 

“I'm sorry” she mouthed to him. His mouth twitched, and he nodded, but didn't say anything more about it.

“Are you ready, Little Bird?” he asked.

“Yes” Sansa said and kneeled on the floor and dragged out her traveling bag. She took of her robe and placed it in one of the armchairs, and then nodded to Sandor. He took her hand and started walking to the door. The woman, Tyleen had already sat down on the bed, looking surprised by the softness of the mathress.   
“Remember what I told you” Sandor said over his shoulder to her. Tyleen nodded. Then he opened the door, and they were out in the corridor.

“What did you tell her?” Sansa whispered.

“To not say who helped her inside the castle. She dosen't know who you are, or why she has taken your place, but she has seen me. I made sure of that so she would know who would hunt her if she betrayed any information.”

Sansa didn't feel certain of that. “But what if she is tortured?” she said in a small voice.

“Maybe she will be” Sandor said. “But it's more important that we buy ourselves some time. I gave her good money to do this, more than she can make for two moons by fucking ugly brutes in the brothel. She knew the risks, but did it anyway. That says something, dosen't it?”

Sansa thought about it, and then nodded. They didn't speak more about it.

 

Sansa's heart beat so fast that she was sure that the whole castle heard it, but no one met them on the way to the stable.

Sandor seemed confident, but in a hurry. “At midnight, there is a change in the guard. We have only that moment to sneak out unnoticed. Then it will be hard.”

 

But they made it. At the stable Sandor's big warhorse, Stranger, was already saddled and ready. Sandor swung himself up in the saddle and lifted Sansa in front of him. Then they took of in a smooth gallop over the King's Bridge, on their way out of King's Landing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	14. Sandor/Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa find a place to make their first camp on their escape from King's Landing. Sansa tries something new, and Sandor give her his engagement gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've said before, this is a fan-fiction. The characters are GRRM:s creation, I'm just borrowing them.

It was night again. The moon had risen about an hour ago. They had rode an entire night and a whole day. He knew that he had to find a place for them to rest soon. Sansa had not complained at all, even when it became obvious that she started to feel sore and uncomfortable. He was proud of her. She knew it was important that they lay as much distance between themselves and King's Landing as possible before the could get the luxury of rest.

 

But now he started to feel real worry for his Little Bird. She had fallen asleep in front of him and did not wake, even when her head bumped against his armor clad chest – which said something about her exhaustion. They had only stopped a few times to make water, and they had eaten their bread on the horseback. She needed a good meal, a night's rest and to put ointment on her thighs, to prevent riding wounds.

He had ridden in these parts before, and knew them. Sure, they were at a distance from King's Landing, but he had been their sworn dog, after all and traveled over every one of the Seven Kingdoms to do their deed.

It would be a cave here somewhere, he knew. He had used that place many times to make camp. It had a little stream not far from it, with clean water, and the thick wood surrounding it, shielding it from strong winds. Yes, it would suffice for their shelter tonight.

He turned Stranger to go right, away from the road, straight into the forest. It was dark, but both he and Stranger knew the way. Soon they heard the sound of running water, and then the trees cleared and the clearing with the cave came into view.

 

He gently shook Sansa's shoulder until she opened her eyes. “Wake up, Little Bird. We're going to make camp for the night.”

Sansa yawned, but nodded and looked around. “It looks like a good place. It evens have a stream so we can wash ourselves.”

“Yes, it does. Why don't you go ahead and do that, Little Bird, and I will take care of Stranger and place out our bedrolls.”

Sansa nodded again, but her legs were so stiff from the long ride that Sandor had to dismount first, and lift her off the horse back. He chuckled a little.

“I have ointment for your legs after you've washed. Don't worry, Little Bird, it will get better. Your body will soon get used to it.”

 

Sansa went to the stream and Sandor took the saddle of Stranger to give his back a thorough massage and brush. Then he fed him and gave him water.

When Stranger's needs had been taken care of he brought their bags and bedrolls into the cave. A fire would be nice, it would keep them warm while they ate their dinner, but he wanted to wash too before he made one. And it would be for the best if he waited until Sansa was done. If they both ended up naked in a stream … well both time and guard would be forgotten, to say the least.

He smiled to himself, and gathered wood for the fire, something to keep him busy.

 

Soon Sansa came back, with damp hair and flushed cheeks from chill in the water.

“It was nice” she said with a smile. “But cold!”

Sandor laughed. “I believe you, Little Bird. Now, I must wash. I have your ointment in my traveling bag. You can build the fire if you'd like. The fire steel is in my saddle bag.”

Sansa nodded and reached for the bag that was fastened to the saddle. Sandor took his clean clothes and went off to the stream.

 

Sansa had looked everywhere it seemed, but she could not find the fire steel. She had found the ointment he had talked about, and it felt soothing and healing on her sore thighs. But she really wanted to make the fire, both because she wanted to make _something_ useful in this camp, and also because she knew that Sandor feared being near fire. Even though he apparently had worked some on that lately, saving her from the Red Keep's fire.

She let out a frustrated groan and decided to go look after Sandor and ask him where exactly the fire steel was. She walked to the stream but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him.

Sandor stood with his back against her, with water up to his knees. The light from the moon flowed over his massive body, making it seem like he was made from marble. His shoulder length hair was wet, making small water drops running along his back, down to his buttocks.

Sansa gasped. She had seen him naked before, yes, but not like this. There had been so little time, she had not completely been able to admire him.

He was all firm skin and muscles. And scars. So many of them. But they didn't scare her, not like it had might done before. Now she only saw a brave, powerful man that had fought in battles and won.

 

His was more broad-shouldered than most men, muscled back, narrow hips and such a firm bottom that went over to strong thighs, covered in rich, dark hair.

Sansa's mouth felt dry, and a now familiar longing started in her lower abdomen. She flickered in surprise when Sandor suddenly turned towards her. He didn't seem surprised to see her, maybe she had made a noise without hearing it herself. He smirked.

“See something you like, Little Bird?” he said in a low, teasing voice.

Sansa tried to answer him, but realized she couldn't. Her mouth was completely dry, and she felt like she was out of breath.

Sandor started to walk toward her, reminding her of a predator stalking his prey – that smirk still on his lips. Her eyes darted from his face to his groin. When he had turned towards her his manhood had been soft, just resting between his thighs, but now she saw that it moved. It was growing.

Small droplets of water dripped from the end of his manhood down into the water. Sansa followed them with her eyes, surprised by her own wish. She wanted to lick those droplets off, to taste him.

_Septa Mordane would be horrified if she knew what I was thinking_ , she scolded herself, but somehow she was not ashamed. After all, Sandor had tasted her womanhood. Why could not she taste him, too?

 

Sandor had come up to the bank now, stepping out of the water. Sansa picked up his towel and met him. 

“Are you cold?” she said on a low, hoarse voice she didn't recognize.

“Frozen” Sandor said. As if prove him right, goosebumps spread over his body. 

“Let me warm you then” Sansa whispered, and started to dry the water of with the towel. She took her time, stroking him, letting her fingers run along his skin. It made her feel powerful to hear his breathing tense, feel his muscles jump under her touch.

She smiled before she sank to her knees and started to pat his thighs dry, and his buttocks. Sandor groaned. “Seven hells, Little Bird, you are torturing me!”

“Oh, yes, I am” she whispered. Then she looked upon his erected manhood. It stood proud, jutting out from the nest of raven hair between his thighs. 

She wasn't really sure how to do it, but she was sure he would tell her if she did something wrong. 

Curiously she leaned forward and gently kissed the smooth skin of its head. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Sandor rasped. She quickly looked up on him to see if she had done something wrong, but his hand caught her head and brought it back.

“Open your mouth, Sansa. Take me into your mouth, _please_!” he groaned.

She smiled proudly at his aroused tone, and did as he said. She closed her mouth upon him.

“Be careful with your teeth” he said. “Use your hand down at the base, like that, yes! And suck on it!”

Sansa did. She sucked on the tip, licking from the base, all the way up, rewarded with a hoarse groan from him, and then she sucked again.

His hips moved a little, made his manhood slip inside her mouth even more. She could tell he liked that and tried to take more of him. First it almost made her gag, and she had to retreat a little, but soon she understood to relax the back of her throat, which made it easier.

Now she sucked with all the power she had while Sandor pushed in and out of her mouth. She hummed a little, making a harsh gasp emanate from him.

“I'm going to spill soon, Sansa” he warned her. “So if you don't want my seed inside your mouth you really should ...” Sansa did not let him finish. Instead she sucked on his manhood with such a force that her cheeks hollowed out.

Sandor came with a roar that must have frightened all the birds in the three, his seed shot in hot spurts inside Sansa's mouth. Her eyes widened at the feeling and the salty, little bitter taste of him while she swallowed.

Then she wiped a little saliva from her chin and looked up on Sandor. “Warm now?” she asked with a little mocking tone.

He chuckled. “Fuck yes. Seven hells, Little Bird, why did you …?”

“You've tasted me. I wanted to taste you” she said with a shy smile.

“I'll fucking pray that you'll want to do it again someday” Sandor said while he put on his clean clothes.

“Probably” Sansa said and handed him his booths. “Oh, while we're on the subject of keeping warm, I could not find the fire steel. That was why I came here in the first place.” She giggled a little.

“Oh, and then you forgot all about it when you saw the rabid dog in the stream? Poor Little Bird. Well, let's go back. We'll find the fire steel and make a fire. Then, after dinner I'll taste _you_.”

Sansa blushed.

 

They went back to the cave and Sandor soon found the fire steel. He gave it to Sansa so she could make a fire while he took out their food. But when she had made the fire and he lightly stroke her arm it was not dried meat and bread he gave her, but a small pouch in black velvet.

“What's this?” she asked.

“It's for you” he said with a little embarrassment in his voice.

Sansa gave him a little confused look and opened the pouch, and turned it to empty it into her hand. Then she gasped. Out came a ring. A ring in white gold with a beautiful pink stone.

“Oh, Sandor ...” she said. “It's … it's so lovely!”

“It's my gift to you. My betrothal gift. If … if we're going to marry that only seemed proper.”

Sansa felt tears starting to run down her cheeks when she put the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit on her hand.

“I love it, Sandor! Thank you” she whispered. Then she hugged him tightly, kissing his neck. “And I love you. More than anything else!”

Sandor kissed her hair and whispered back: “And I love you, Little Bird. You're the reason I fucking breathe!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	15. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor discovers something unexpected a night on their journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts with sex and explicit language. Just a warning.

Sandor pounded inside his Little Bird, fucked his way into her where she stood in her hands and knees on the hard ground. She moaned and he could feel her arousal dampening his cock. She said something incoherent while she clenched around him. He slowed down.

“What was that, Little Bird?” he said with a teasing voice.

Sansa whined, trying to push against him with her hips, but his hands stilled her.

“Little Bird?” he said with a demanding voice.

Sansa groaned, but then she she turned her head and looked at him. “I said, _harder_!” she sputtered with an aggravated look on her face.

“Oh, my Little Bird wants it harder? Well, why didn't you say so before I stopped then?” he teased her before he started hammering against her, faster and harder then before. Sansa let out a cry, her spine strained and her hands fisted.

“Pull my hair” she whispered in a hoarse voice. She had started to love when he did that during their lovemaking. His Little Bird turned to the she-wolf that was her sigil in bed. He smiled while he fisted her hair and pulled a little.

“ _Oh, gods!_ ” Sansa screamed. He felt her release, the way her whole body tensed and how her sex clenched around him like it would never let him retreat. He pistoned his hips against her, grabbing her hips so hard he was sure he would leave bruises, but she just urged him on. With her name on his lips his own peak came hard, before he collapsed on top of her.

 

When they had caught their breath he withdrew from her, and they turned on their backs, snuggling together on their bedroll on the ground. They had stayed in an inn the day before yesterday, and rode the whole day and night until today. When the afternoon came they had made shelter in a grove.

It was nearly a week and a half since they had left King's Landing. Sandor could not believe their luck, that they had not run into any of the Lannisters' men. But he was not going to change that. They were near Maidenpool now, and a column of smoke could be seen in the sky, even if they were still inside the forest.

Therefore he had not dared to light a fire, or rather let Sansa light a fire. So for warmth they had crawled together for the night, in each others arms – which of course led to this. He maybe should have foreseen it, but he didn't. And he certainly wasn't going to refuse his Little Bird when her wandering hands started to arouse him.

 

He smirked to himself now while he laid beside her, stroking her shoulder and chest lightly. How could have known that Sansa Stark would be such a wantom lady? He had lost count on how many times he had fucked her these days while they were on the run. Every night, for sure. And sometimes directly after they dismounted Stranger. There had even been times when she lured him to stop because she wanted to relieve herself. Aye, she wanted to relieve herself, alright. But not the way she had said … when they already were dismounted she would flung herself in his arms and kiss him like her life depended on it. And he could never find the voice to refuse her.

 

He knew they would soon reach the Riverlands. Her brother and mother was said to be there. Hopefully her moon blood woul wait until then. It would be hard for her to be on horse and keep this pace whilst she bled …

 

Sandor stopped what he was doing the second his thought left him. Her moon blood.

He felt himself grow cold and warm at the same time all over, and then he carefully touched his Little Bird's breast.

Yes. They felt bigger. How in the seven hells could he had missed that? Gently he traced his hand down to her lower stomach.

He didn't feel anything different yet, except that her stomach was unnaturally warm in the cold night. Of course, that could be due to what they just had did, but Sandor was sure of his assumption. _Shit!_

 

“Little Bird?”

“Mhmm?” she murmured dreamily.

“When was the last time you flowered?”

“What?”

Sansa sat up, looking confused. Then she started to count on her fingers. One time. Two. Then she went the same shade of pale like that day the boy-king had said they would marry.

“Oh, gods” she whispered. “The moon tea … I forgot about it … even after the first time in King's Landing, I forgot to drink it. So much was happening …!”

Sandor nodded, brought his hand to his own face and groaned. He should have been more careful! He could have spilled his seed on the ground, like he sometimes did when he had fucked whores. But he had not wanted to do that, not wanted to do anything similar from that time with his Little Bird.

And now here they were.

“Are you sad, Little Bird?” he asked in a low voice.

Sansa looked surprised. “Sad, my love? No! This is unexpected, for sure, but I'm not sad. Your child is growing inside me!” She put a hand to her stomach, smiling a little.

“I carry our first child” she said with a trembling voice.

 

Sandor felt his eyes beginning to water. His Little Bird had just called him _my love_. It was the first time she did that, even though he knew she loved him. And now his son – or daughter was growing inside her womb. Her brother, the king of the North maybe would kill him for it, but no, he was not sad about it either. He had never thought about a wife or children before Sansa, but she was also the only one he wanted to carry his pups.

But if she was going to do that, she was going to do it in the right way.

“We will arrive to Maidenpool tomorrow, Sansa” he said. “They have a sept. I want us to marry then.”

Sansa looked up at him, starting to smile when his word sunk in. “Really?

“I have never cared for the gods, Little Bird. They have never answered my prayers. Well not until you, that is. In my eyes you already are my wife. But yes, I want to make it so in everyone else's eyes too. If they really exist, then yes, they should know it too. And no one is going to call my first born a bastard!”

Sansa stroke his cheek. “My darling love” she whispered. “You have live a hard life. But don't you see? This is the mother's way of rewarding you for turning into the right path. She is rewarding us both! Soon we will have a little one beside us.”

Sandor kissed her palm that rested on his face. “Then you will marry me tomorrow?”

Sansa giggled. “Oh, yes, my Hound. I will marry you. Finally!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	16. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Sandor marry in the sept of Maidenpool, but an unwanted surprise is happening afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not updating as swiftly as I used to, since I'm having a bit of anemia right now and are so damn tired!  
> But I'm going to try to update as much as I can for you guys!

Sansa silently walked towards the Septon and Sandor, her soon-to-be-husband. Her stomach made a little jolt at that.

She had taken her ordinary cloak as her maiden's cloak. It was the right color, at least. No direwolf, but she didn't think that the gods would mind. They knew and saw everything, they would know why she could not wear the right cloak this day.

 

The septon had been a little confused when he heard that no one would give her over – she was a lady, after all, that was the custom. But she told him that her father was dead, that one of her big brother was at war and the other (she had started considering Jon as her brother through and through a while ago, in King's Landing) was at the Wall, unable to attend. She did not mention that they did not know about this marriage. She doubted that the septon would like that.

 

She was finally standing beside Sandor, in front of the septon who began talking. She probably should listen, but she just watched Sandor instead. Her beloved Sandor.

He was clad in his armor, shaved and bathed. But he still held that scent that was him alone along with the hint of soap. She inhaled the smell of him, blushing when she felt herself starting to long for him. _We are in holy place, Sansa Stark! This is not proper at all_!

It was good that the septon chose that particularly moment to say: “You may now cloak the bride.”

Sansa removed her cloak herself and put it aside. Sandor took of his own and gently placed it around her shoulders. It was his old Kingsguard's cloak – the one he had gave to Sansa at the night of the battle of Blackwater Bay. They had paid their innkeeper to get it washed and dried to the ceremony. Sansa was a little disappointed that it would not have its special smell after this, but after all, she was going to have the man now. She didn't need his cloak to feel safe anymore.

 

She turned to Sandor, and linked her hands with his. The septon tied a blue ribbon along their hands and proclaimed: “In the sight of the Seven I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. You may say your vows.”

Sansa looked at Sandor, straight into his stormy grey eyes, the eyes she hoped their child would get and said with a trembling voice, the same time as Sandor:

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days.”

Then Sandor brought his face to hers. “With this kiss I pledge my love as your husband.” Then he gently pressed his lips to hers. Sansa's tears was streaming from her eyes when they parted and she sobbed “I pledge my love as your wife.”

The septon smiled at them and nodded. _It's done_ , Sansa thought. _He is my husband. My husband and the father of my child._

Sandor thanked the septon, but Sansa was in trance of happiness and could not utter a single word.

Sandor chuckled at her, and then scooped her up in his arms. “Now, my little wife” he whispered in her ear, “I think we has a little feast waiting for us at our inn. Then we has some bedding to do.”

Sansa giggled and gave his scarred left side small, gentle kisses. “Yes, my lord husband. My lord Clegane. Lord and Lady Clegane, how does that sound?” she said in his ear.

“Like a fucking dream I'd say!” Sandor said and stepped outside into the sunlight. He lowered her to her feat and brought his hands to her stomach.

“How are you feeling?” he wondered, a bit of worry in his voice. Sansa had been ill this morning, and she knew it worried him, but she had told him that it would be more unnatural if she  _wasn't_ sick in the mornings. In truth she had felt ill in the mornings nearly a week before they discovered she was pregnant, but that had just been nauseousness – she had not been sick until this morning.

Now, though she felt wonderful. But hungry.

“I'm fine” she said. “But I'm starving. You better give your wife something to eat first, before you bed her.”

Sandor just laughed and took her hand. “Gladly. You have always been to skinny anyway, Little Bird.”

They went along the road to get to their inn when a voice came from behind.

“Ah, so for once the rumors were true. A Stark bitch and a traitor Hound. This must be our lucky day, boys.”

Sansa felt as of her blood froze inside her veins. She and Sandor turned around and saw that they were being followed by Lannister's soldier. At the head of them was that sleazebag Meryn Trant.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	17. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter about what happens after the couple meet the Lannister soldiers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be a short one, and I apologize both for the short chapter and for not updating in a while. I still have anemia and I am pretty tired, but since I got my new glasses today I wanted to try to write a little with them!

Sandor drew his sword ( _thank the Gods that I brought it with me_ ). The Lannister soldiers had not even dismounted yet, and they laughed at the sight.

“There's six of us, Hound. Do you really think you can beat us all? Are you that eager to die? The Stark bitch must have gotten to your head!” It was Meryn fucking Trant who said it. Mocking him. Mocking the Little Bird. His wife.

“Shut the fuck up, Trant” Sandor snarled. “Someone is going to die, that's true. But it will be you and those weaklings you brought with you. I'm going to butcher all of you, and I will fucking enjoy it! Especially you, Trant.” He glanced at Sansa who had backed a few steps and watched wide-eyed and pale. He turned to Trant again. “I will enjoy making you pay for what you made her suffer in King's Landing.”

Meryn Trant did not answer. Instead he drew his sword and charged at Sandor. Sandor did not even blink, but met the blade with his own. He had not fought or trained in almost two months, not since he fled with Sansa, but his blade was sharp, and a half life of experience gets you a long way.

Dodge, charge, blow. Dodge, charge blow. The green, younger boys was no big match for him, most of them still afraid of him. It was Trant he wanted, but the knight danced around, hiding behind the other. Maybe he was afraid of Sandor too, or maybe he was trying to get to Sansa, but that was not going to happen.

 

Soon enough the five boys were lying in the street, bleeding severely or dead. Trant's sword was knocked from his hand and Sandor forced him down on his knees.

“I told you” he growled at the knight. “Someone was going to die, but it would be you.”

He got closer to deliver the death stroke, and cut the mans throat, when Sansa suddenly screamed:

“Look out! His dagger!”

Sandor was just a second too late. Meryn Trant buried his dagger in Sandor's thigh, making him roar. That was the last thing Trant did in his life, however. Sandor split his skull in two with a fatal cut. Meryn Trant, the former kingsguard went down like a sack of vegetables.

 

Sandor stood and swayed a little when he heard his Little Bird behind him, felt her hand on his arm.

“Sandor? My love ...”

“I'm not dead, Little Bird” he slurred out. “He is” he said and pointed with his sword at Trant.

Then his strength left him, and everything went black. The last thing he heard was his Little Bird howl in agony, like the she-wolf he knew she was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	18. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor pass out after being stabbed in the leg. Sansa thinks all hope is gone when she recognizes a man who comes riding toward them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this will be a pretty short one. The ending of this story is appearing in the horizon, but not yet!
> 
> Authors note: As far as I know, in ASOIAF, Sansa has never meet her great-uncle, Brynden "Blackfish" Tully, but in my story, I took the liberty to change that. They have met one time, about two years before the events in King's Landing.  
> Also; What maester Luwin talked with Sansa about is actually the artery that runs through our thigh, but I made it a little more "medieval medicine-talk". I hope you find it believable

" _Sandor!_ " Sansa screamed when her husband (very newly wedded husband!) sank to his knees, and then fell back onto the road with a heavy  _thunk._

She abandoned her place beside the road and rushed over to him. Blood was spurting heavily from the wound in his thigh. It was deep, and by this rate he could bleed out in just a matter of moments! She felt terrified, she could not lose Sandor, not now! But no one seemed to be near, and she could not move him in this condition. And even if she could have, she would not be able to support his weight by herself. 

She was alone now, she had to do something!  _Come on, Sansa, think, damn it! Sandor has saved you many times! Now you have to save him!_

She suddenly vaguely remembered something maester Luwin had taught her when one of Winterfell's men had been badly wounded by a shadowcat on one of their hunts.

"You may not think it, little lady," Luwin had said after he had tend to the man "but at the inside of our thighs goes a great channel to our heart. From our heart we have many channels so that our lifeblood can support the body's needs. If you get a cut or a big wound at the same place that one of those runs the blood will spray; much more than and ordinary cut."

"How do you stop it then, maester Luwin?" had young Arya asked him with wide eyes. 

"It depends" maester Luwin said. "The neck is very hard, there goes one of the biggest. But in this case it was the leg. Then you can have a fair chance. You put pressure on the bleeding and hold it up, while the wounded lay down. You must get the leg above the body - that will make it harder for the blood to go there, and will keep more of it in the body. The more blood you lose the more dangerous it will be."

 

Sansa had never really liked those little lessons, like Arya had. She wanted to be a Lady wife, not some maesters helper, but at this moment she could have kissed maester Luwin for insisting that she would listen. Quickly she ripped the skirt of her gown. placing it at Sandor's wound. It bled through almost immediately, so she took of his old Kingsguard cloak and wrapped it around his leg, and made a hard knot at the ends to keep it there, and make more pressure.

She felt scared to move Sandor's leg, but she remembered what maester Luwin had said. To keep the wounded part high was very important, so she lifted his leg and placed his calf on her shoulder. It felt heavy and very strange, but she could not care less how odd this would seem. Sandor made a pained sound low in his throat when she moved his leg, but he did not wake. 

Sansa did not know what now she should do. Maybe she had helped for the moment, but she could not leave Sandor here, and no one was here to help her. She also began to feel very nauseous at the smell of blood and the dead bodies that surrounded them. She gave a half sob when she heard hooves coming closer along the road.

She knew that it could be someone dangerous, more people who wanted to hurt them, but she didn't care less now. She needed help, and if whoever it was was not ready to do that she would be prone to violence. Sandor would not die! Not now when they finally had each other!

The rider came closer. It seemed like a well built man in black armor, with grey hair. She raised her voice and called:

"Please, ser, help me! My husband is badly wounded!"

 

The rider suddenly stopped, to only a moment later came at her in full gallop. Sansa clenched Sandor's dagger in her hand in case the rider had bad intentions. But she was not prepared for what came ...

"Sansa, child, is that you?" said a familiar voice from the horseback. 

Sansa's mouth fell open and she squinted. It could not be ... but yes! It really was!

"Great-uncle Brynden!" she gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's times like these you are grateful that you live in the age with cellphones and emergency care for everyone, right?
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	19. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brynden Tully's men bring Sandor back to their inn and fetch a maester to tend his wound.  
> Sansa has a long talk with her Great-Uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I have shift the chapters every other time from Sandor to Sansa, but since Sandor is unconscious right now this chapter will also be from Sansa's POV  
> It will also be a little from Brynden Tully's POV in the end.

Sansa watched her great-uncles men lift Sandor to a solid stretcher. Sandor groaned and the color of his face became even paler. Even his scars seemed pale to Sansa, and her worry made her forget all about politeness and courtesy.

"Be careful with his leg!" she hissed at the man that held him. The man seemed surprised and looked at the Blackfish. Her great-uncle seemed surprised as well, but just nodded at the man and said:

"Do as my lady niece says. This man is her ... protector after all."

"My husband" Sansa said with a firm voice. 

"Her protector and husband" Brynden Tully said. "Take him to their inn, and fetch a maester. I will stay with my great-niece until we can return to Riverrun, so have the innkeeper prepare rooms for us."

 

Most of his men left after that, only a few remained with them. "Edric, give Lady Sansa your cloak" Brynden said to one of them. "You must be cold, dear child" he said and put it around her shoulders. This made Sansa's eyes water, reminding her of when Sandor put his cloak around her, earlier that day. That cloak now rested around her husband's leg. 

Brynden helped her up on one of their horses, and mounted his own. Then they took off. Two of his men stayed behind to drag the Lannister men that Sandor had slayed into the river. 

Sansa wanted to gallop back to the inn, to be at Sandor's side, but Brynden Tully set a slow pace, and he looked wary. "Sansa, my great-niece, it's only three years since I saw you, but ... You have grown so much. You look just like Cat ... I'm so sorry for what you have endured in King's Landing."

Sansa just nodded. She knew that he would want to talk to her about King's Landing, the Lannister's and probably Arya too. But that was not where this was going. This was about Sandor, and his part in all this. 

Brynden took a deap breath and then continued: "But ... last we heard you and little Arya were still held by the Lannister's in King's Landing. You were to marry that boy-king. What ... what are you doing here in Maidenpool? And Sansa ... what in the name of the Seven did you mean when you said that the Hound were your husband?!"

 _Ah,_ Sansa thought.  _Here it goes._

"He is my beloved husband, great-uncle" she said with a calm voice. "We have a document from the septon that wed us. And he is not just my husband ..." she trailed of, and quickly decided  _not_ to mention that they had been wedded just this day. The document from the septon had no date on it - Sandor had insisted on that, since she was with child. That way no one could say that their child was a bastard.

She looked her great-uncle into his eyes and lightly touched her stomach. "He is also the father of my unborn child."

Brynden gasped, along with a few of his men that had heard her. Sansa searched her heart and found the calm strength she needed right now. "I'm sure that you think him a monster, great-uncle. I'm sure that you think he has somehow forced me into this. But he has not. He saved me. He protected me back in King's Landing from Joffrey's wrath. He took me away from that place, to bring me back to mother and to Robb. And this day, before you found me he killed those Lannister men, and was almost killed himself. They would have brought me back to pain and humiliation, but he stopped them."

Brynden frowned, and his eyes, so alike her own darkened slightly. "What do you mean, he protected you from Joffrey's wrath? You were Joffrey's betrothed."

Sansa laughed - a hollow sound. "If forget that you, mother and Robb did not knew Joffrey. You probably thought that I was an honored guest in the Red Keep. That's so far from the truth you could be, great-uncle. I was Joffrey's plaything. After father's death ... he made me watch their heads put on spikes. Fathers, Septa Mordane ... because it pleased him to watch me look at it. And whenever Robb won a victory over the Lannisters' he had his Kingsguard beat me. Sandor was the only one who refused to do it. All the others did it ... ser Meryn, one of those who died at that road actually became ... aroused by it. I could see it."

She looked up from her hands into Brynden's eyes again, and saw that he was pale. He looked sick. No one said anything, the only sound was from the horses hooves. "The day when princess Myrcella left for Dorne there was a riot in King's Landing. They threw rotten fruit and cow's dung at Joffrey and the royal family. I was cut of from the rest and four men cornered me and dragged me into an alley. They were going to rape me, but Sandor ... Sandor was the only one that came back for me, great-uncle. He killed them and carried me back to the Keep. He kept me safe. The only time I actually felt safe was when he was around. And those rioters tried to burn down the Red Keep a few weeks ago. I fell on my way out and hit my head. Fainted. No one cared that I was amiss. Just Sandor. I love him, great-uncle Brynden. I hope you all will understand that. I know that you think that I was meant for a great match with some high lord, but I don't want that anymore. Sandor wants me for ... me."

 

Brynden Tully looked at his great-niece, sitting on her horse, proud and calm. He understood that she was telling the truth about the Hound. Brynden had never met the man himself, but he had heard the rumors of course. But then again, rumors were just words. Humans were another thing. The Tully words were " _Family, Duty, Honor_ ". Sansa was a part of his family, and if she had married this man, Sandor Clegane, known as the Hound he had to give him a chance.  _Everyone deserves a chance_ , he thought to himself.

And when he had heard her tell about her pains in King's Landing he was ashamed. Deeply ashamed that he and Robb had thought it ludicrous of Cat to try to exchange the Kingslayer for two girls who was guests at the Red Keep. 

He reached out to Sansa and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I believe you, child. If Sandor Clegane is who you say he is then you have my full support. I will also support you when you tell your mother about this. Trust me, child, you'll need it." He cringed when he thought of his niece, Catelyn. What would she say when she learned of her new goodson? 

Sansa smiled and her face looked much brighter. She had turned to a very beautiful young woman. Perhaps Sandor Clegane was just like every other men in that matter - a special woman could mend the hardest of hearts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think


	20. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Brynden Tully discuss how to tell Catelyn Stark about her daughters new husband. Sandor wakes up from his unconsciousness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one for today. I'm eating allergy medicines that makes me sleepy, but I managed to write a small update

A day had come and gone since her wedding day. Her husband was still unconscious, but the wound was clean and he had no fever. The maester her great-uncle had sent for told her that was good.

"He will survive, my lady. The cut was deep though, and he lost a large amount of blood. This is his body's way of recover, until he is strong enough to deal with it."

"Will the leg heal completely?" Sansa asked warily. The maester frowned a little.

"We can only hope, my lady. The wound in itself will heal nice, but when the dagger sliced through your husbands leg it caused a muscle rupture. With time and training it could heal and work as before, but ... there is a chance that ... it can heal wrong."

Sansa felt her eyes water. She knew what it meant for Sandor to be the warrior he was - it was the one thing that had kept him alive all those years when they didn't even knew each other.

"Don't despair, my lady" the maester continued. "He will be able to walk even if that happens, and swing a sword. But he might limp, and be a bit weaker in that leg."

Sansa nodded. It was better than ending up with just one leg, at least. Or ending up like her little brother Bran... 

"I will change his dressing again now, my lady, and look after the stitches" the maester said. She knew what he meant by that.

The first time the maester came to them and sewed Sandor's leg together and looked inside the wound to see if the muscles had been damaged from the cut, Sansa had insisted on being with him. Brynden had assured her that this man knew what he was doing, but she wanted to be with her husband, hold his hand, feel his heart beat against her ear while she rested her head on his chest. That had been a mistake, for sure. The pregnancy made her even more sensitive than she should had been. When she heard the sound of the needle poking through Sandor's skin, and smelled the blood she had fainted.

 

Sansa walked to the inn's common room, and sat down with her great-uncle who was drinking a cup of ale and looking on an empty scroll in front om him. "Is something wrong?" Sansa asked.

"Not particularly, no. But I must send a raven to Riverrun. My men and I were only to be gone a fortnight. Your husband will need at least that to heal before he can ride again, so I must tell them why we are delayed. Otherwise your brother would think we were attacked."

Sansa nodded. "And?"

Brynden smiled. "Sansa, dear, how am I suppose to tell Cat and Robb why we are delayed without telling them about you and Clegane? And _if_   I tell them that, I would stir up a hornets nest! Cat would riding here to see you, and Robb ... well, when he hears that you are wed to the Lannister Hound ..."

"He is not the Lannister Hound!" Sansa spit out, once again forgetting to show respect to her elders.

"Not now, but he sure was, for a great many years" Brynden said calmly. "And that is what matters to Robb and your mother right now."

Sansa sighed again. Of course he was right. She liked to think of her family without flaws, but they were just humans like everybody else. Of course Robb would believe every rumor he had heard about Sandor before he knew him. And of course her mother would think it was for Sansa's own good if they tried to annul the marriage. When she was little, it was all she had ever wanted, to be a high lord's lady, maybe even queen.

 _But that's not me anymore,_ she thought stubbornly.  _And somehow I will make them understand that!_

She looked at her great-uncle again. "Then don't say anything about that" she suggested. "Besides, it can be dangerous for other reason to mention me and Sandor with a raven. Ravens can be killed, and messages can end up on the wrong hands. Just say that one of your men met some Lannister troupes, and was wounded. You don't have to mention who, just say it is one of your men. And that he will need time to heal, so you will all stay here until then to make sure that there is not more Lannister men here."

Brynden eyes lit up. "You truly have grown into an intelligent woman, have you not?" he said and smiled.

Sansa laughed a little. "Yes, it feels a little wrong to misguide Robb and mother, but we're not lying, exactly."

Brynden was about to say something when the maester came down and walked over to them.

"My lady ... your husband is awake, and he is most eager to see you."

"He is awake?" Sansa almost yelled. "How is he, is he in much pain?"

"Ehum" the maester started. "I will tell you everything, my lady but I think it's best if you come now. He said ... that if he did not made sure that his wife was alive and well in about thirty seconds he would ... he would ..."

The maester looked thoroughly disgusted but finished the sentence all the same: "He said he would jam his fist so far inside my mouth that we could make a new maester's chain of my intestines".

Brynden Tully looked shocked, but Sansa started to laugh. " _Now_ I know that my Sandor is truly awake".   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think


	21. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor is reminded that he and Sansa did not receive a proper wedding night, and decides to make it up to her.

Sandor heavily went up the steps of the inn to his and Sansa's room. There had been two and a half week since his injury, but the leg still bothered him. The muscles didn't obey his body's commands as it used to, and he hated it. 

The Blackfish, Sansa's great-uncle who apparently had found Sansa after he had passed out that day after Meryn fucking Trant stabbed him, had given him one of his own men as a squire. The young man trained with him every day, and Sandor could see that he was getting stronger, but something felt off with his wounded leg. 

The maester said that the big muscle in his thigh probably had not healed correct. It would get better, but he would always feel weaker in that leg. He wanted to rip his bloody tongue out. What the fuck was a maester good for, if he could not heal him? He was a  _soldier_ for fuck's sake! If he couldn't be a soldier anymore, what was he then?  _  
_

But Sansa ... his lovely Sansa. She had not pitied him, knowing that he hated pity. She had just calmly said that he still was the strongest man she knew (except for his fucking brother). He could still swing a sword, still ride a horse. He could even still be in battle, if he trained his leg every day.

"That's more than my little brother Bran could hope for" she said a little sadly. "You got your wound defending me, and our baby. That's more honorable than any wound you could get in a battle for some high lord." 

For once he agreed with her - about the honor part. He was not some buggering knight, but he was a husband and would soon be a father.  _A man must defend his family._

Brynden Tully had had a long talk with him about that during the time he was bound to the bed. He had said that Sansa had told him everything about her time in King's Landing, and that he was grateful to Sandor for keeping his niece safe. He had also said that he understood that Sansa loved him, and their unborn child. Did he love her?

Sandor had bared his teeth at the man and snapped: "Of course I fucking love her! Do you think I went to the trouble of stealing that boy-kings betrothed just so she could spread her legs for me? I did it for _her!_ "

Instead of looking revolted of his crude language, the Tully man had just smiled. "That's good. I just wanted to know that your intentions were honest, Clegane. You have my full support and blessing. I will talk with Robb and Cat when we get to Riverrun. But you must know, even if I approve, I doubt her brother and mother will, at first."

"Tell me something new" Sandor had snorted, but he could not help but smile a little a the man. The Blackfish seemed like a good enough man. In the future, Sandor maybe even would like him. 

 

He smiled at his thoughts and opened the door to their room and spotted his Little Bird at once. She sat in a chair by the window with her embroidery. She had worked on it furiously on it, during the time he was abed, and after, but she refused to tell him what she was doing. Hearing him, she finished her last knot, and turned her head at him.

His breath caught in his chest at the sight of her. Although she still was sick in the mornings, pregnancy agreed with her. Her skin was glowing, her curves were more prominent and her whole being radiated calm and happiness. So far from the nervous, chirping little bird he had known in King's Landing. 

"Husband" she said with a little smile. "How was your training?" 

Sandor snorted. "My squire says I'm improving, but he could very well be saying that just because I'm scaring him."

"Yes, you are very good at scaring, people" Sansa said and rose from her chair. "The maester always seems more happy to deal with me than with you. Why do you think that is?"

Sandor were going to give her a sarcastic answer, but then her words hit him. "Have you been at the maester? Why? Is something wrong? Is it ... the pup?"

Sansa smiled and took his hand, and kissed his knuckles. "All is fine, Sandor. I just went to him so he could examine me and tell me how far along I am. He said all seemed normal. It's early still, but in about seven moons you will hold our son." She practically beamed at him.

Sandor blinked. "You can't know that yet?"

Sansa smiled wider. "I have a feeling."

 

Sandor was suddenly overcome with desire for his little wife. They had not laid together since before his injury. But now ... if he was strong enough to train he would be strong enough to satisfy his wife. He was reminded that she had never got her bedding on their wedding day - the fucking Lannister troupes got in the way _again!_

But now, nothing could stop him. He would fuck his wife now. Hard and passionate. He smiled a wicked grin and crushed Sansa's lip with his. She responded eagerly and kissed him back, her hands grabbing his hair, holding him against her.

She tasted of lemon water and passion. Fuck, he had missed her. The feeling of her soft skin under his fingertips, the smell of her fiery hair. His cock twitched in his breaches, already hard and throbbing.

He broke the kiss, and Sansa let out a whimper of protest, but turned it into a moan when he instead kissed her neck, sucked on that special spot that made her weak. One of his hands went to her breast and he could feel that her nipple had already hardened. She had missed him too.

Sansa pushed up his tunic, making him broke the contact between them so he could raise his arms. Then she teared at the laces of his breeches, breathing hard and fast. He was astonished. Sansa had always been eager to love him, that was true, but she had always enjoyed the little playing before the act. Now it seemed like she would die if he didn't was inside her in a very soon future. He chuckled. Maybe pregnancy did that to her too.

His laces undone she pushed his breeches down with his smallclothes. He kicked them of, with his boots. "You are still dressed, Little Bird. I want you to be naked for this." Sansa flushed and turned around so he could undo her laces.

He fumbled a little, the maids of the inn had made hard knots, and in this haste he could not figure out to work them. "Bloody hell!" he cursed.

Sansa whimpered again, then said: "Just use your dagger! I will need new clothes soon anyway." More beautiful words had not been uttered since she said she loved him.

Sandor carefully sliced through the laces with his dagger, pushing the dress down. She was not wearing a bodice, so he turned her, kissing her breasts and unlaced her smallclothes.

"Now, Sandor, NOW! I can't take it any longer!" she cried.

Sandor backed her against the wall, lifted her up and pushed inside her in a fast stroke. Sansa cried out, loud. She was tight, soaked with arousal.

"Move, my love!" she said. "I want to feel you. Have waited so long!"

Sandor chuckled at his eager Little Bird. Seven hells, she was arousing. He leaned on his good leg, moving one hand down to her sex. He started moving inside her, hard and fast rubbing her little nub in time with his movements.

"Oh, yes, like that, my love! Oh, gods, YES!" Sansa shrieked, digging her nails into his back, her inner muscles squeezing his cock.

"I have missed you, Little Bird" Sandor moaned, moving in and out of her. He could not even feel the throbbing in his wounded leg now, because the throbbing of his cock muted the rest of his body.

"And I have missed you" Sansa whimpered, nibbling at his bottom lip. Then they kissed, and their lovemaking became frantic. Sandor lost all sense of rhythm, he just hammered his hips against her, trying to get his cock as far inside her as he could. Sansa grind her hips against his, welcoming his movement. She was close.

He rubbed her harder, catching one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked furiously.

"Oh, Sandor! Oh, yes! Oh, FUCK!" he heard his Little Bird shriek, and the surprise was so big that he let go of her nipple with a little _pop_.

If Sansa Stark, now Clegane was cursing, then she was really done for. He flicked her nub one last time, and then he let his own pleasure overtake him, while she clenched around him.

"Seven hells, Little Bird" he moaned when he felt his release coming. It nearly hurt when his seed exploded inside her, it had been so long.

"Yes, Sandor, claim me ..." he heard Sansa whisper. Maybe she could not scream anymore. He certainly could not. His strength was all out. But he managed to get them to the bed, dropping them both in the middle with her on top. 

Then he could not remember anything more for a while.

 

He woke awhile later when someone planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He opened his eyes and spotted his little wife, looking smug and satisfied. "What happened?" he muttered.

"You fell asleep after you got us to the bed. It must have been quite a release you had, husband."

"I was not the only one, wife" he said, winking at her. She blushed. 

"Ah well ... now I will at least arrive to Riverrun bedded" she teased. 

Sandor barked a laugh at that. "Oh yes, Little Bird. You will be wedded and bedded. Although not in that order. But I think we shall neglect to mention that to your mother and brother.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	22. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa spend some time alone on the trip to Riverrun. Sweetness and fluff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this should have been Sansa's chapter, but since she has gotten a lot of those when Sandor was hurt, I must be fair and give Sandor some time  
> ;) 
> 
> These characters belong to George R.R. Martin - I'm just borrowing them! I do not own the song lyrics either!

Sandor returned to the camp the Tully men had made earlier that day. They were about two days from Riverrun, and could probably have sought shelter at some of the Riverlands farms, but the Blackfish had not wanted that. 

"Then it will only be a matter of time before words reach Cat and Robb about you and Sansa, and we will have a gallows waiting for you when we arrive. Me too, when Cat understands that I have not killed you on sight, or at least taken you captive."

Sandor had to agree with the man. The Blackfish seemed to have a good head on his shoulder. And a pair of good eyes that looked for the truth - as it actually was, not as it should be.

 

Sandor had left Sansa's side after their supper. He wanted to take the opportunity to train his leg as much as possible while he had the chance. Who knew, maybe his goodbrother would throw him into a dungeon? Sansa had said it would not come to that, and Brynden Tully had said that he would do whatever he could to prevent that, but Sandor was not stupid. Seven buggering hells - if _he_ was his goodbrother he would throw him into a dungeon. He was the feared Lannister Hound, had been both Cersei's and Joffrey's sworn shield, he was ugly as fuck, a second son on top of that, and the only thing he had ever done in his days was kill, fuck and drink. 

And now he had gotten the most beautiful girl in the North, maybe the whole Westeros, pregnant with his pup. And married her. In that order, too, although no one knew that. Aye, if he were Robb Stark he would throw him into a dungeon. But if the Young Wolf tried that Sandor would tell him a thing or two - about leaving that precious sister in the lion's den, among other things. And sitting on that fucking Kingslayer like he was some holy prize instead of exchanging him for Sansa.

According to Brynden Tully they had not even know that Arya had disappeared from King's Landing. The Blackfish had asked about the she-wolf the other day, wondering why she was not with them, which had made Sansa cry so hard that she could not sit on her horse any longer (this pregnancy was an utter pain, Sandor thought. Yes, he was proud she was caring their child, but did it have to make her so strange from time to time?!).

When the Blackfish had found out that Arya was missing, and had probably been so for more than a year he had been quite taken. "Little Arya ... poor, sweet child. Where could you be?"

 

Sandor entered the camp again, sending his squire to clean his longsword. He could not see his wife, so he asked the first man he came across. "Where is Lady Sansa?"

The man gasped at first - the men had not gotten entirely used to him yet - but then he straightened and nodded towards the riverbank. "She said she wanted to have some peace and work on her project. Ser Brynden said it was alright as long as we could see her."

Sandor nodded. He didn't like that Sansa sat alone, but the men would see if someone approached her on the river, and hopefully she still carried the dagger she had took from him the day he'd fainted in Maidenpool. She had not wanted to give it back when he awoke, said it made her feel safe, since it was his dagger - like some of his strength was inside the dagger. He made his way over to her, away from the men, even if the sounds from camp could still be heard, they were fainter. He understood that Sansa wanted away from it - it had just been the two of them so long when they were on the run. It took some time to get used to a whole cavalry of men again.

Sansa sat with here embroidery frame in her hands, working and humming to herself. The sound felt like balm for his soul this moment. He had been worried the whole day. Worried about what would happen when they reached Riverrun.

Would Robb Stark kill him? Imprison him?

Would Lady Catelyn force Sansa to drink moon-tea, to be rid of the baby, so she could be married to someone else?

Would Brynden Tully truly support them when he stood again in his brothers hall and looked his king in the eyes?

 _Fucking hell._ He needed his Little Bird right now. Not to fuck her, no he had some other need of her, one he didn't quite understood. But the feeling that she might be taken away from him made him want to roar, trash and rip things apart, that had so long been his way. But if the Blackfish saw that, that support he talked about would be gone before he had gotten the rage out of him.

No, that wouldn't do. So maybe Sansa's voice could calm him. It had during the battle of Blackwater, after all. Calmed the rage and fear, and worst of all - that twice damned blood lust that made a man dangerous to everyone.   

"What are you doing, Little Bird?" he said in a low voice, and sat down beside her. She didn't seemed surprise to see him. 

"Just finished my wedding present to you, husband" she said in a proud voice. "I know it's a little late, but consider everything I hope you can forgive that."

Sandor felt his eyes widen. "Wedding present?" he said dumbstruck. 

"Yes. Back in King's Landing when you said we would marry I wanted to give you something nice to remember our marriage and union. Here, what do you think?" 

She handed him something big. It had gotten pretty dark, so he had to squint but now he saw that it was a tapestry. A white direwolf and a big, black dog walked beside them other, the name **Clegane** embroidered in black letters above. Over the name itself she had made a blue, neat bird. 

Sansa laid her head against his bicep while he just looked at the tapestry. "I thought that ... when we get a more permanent home it could hang over our bed. Do you ... like it?"

Sandor broke his stare at the tapestry. "It's perfect, my darling wife. So perfect. Yes, I want it over our bed!"

Sansa smiled. "I love you, Sandor."

Sandor took his Little Bird in his arms and pressed his lips against hers. Then he slid down lower, so he could kiss her stomach through her clothes. "Little Bird. Could you ... please sing something for me?"

"Sing?" Sansa said sounding a little astonished. Perhaps she had thought he would try to seduce her, but no, not tonight. "Yes, husband, of course I can. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything" he said. "Just not the one about the mother. And please, no Florian and Jonquil!"

"That would not be described as 'anything', my love" Sansa said with a little giggle. "But as you say."

Sandor stayed with his head in her lap, the hand still on her stomach. She combed through his hair with her fingers, gently massaging his scalp. It felt wonderful. Then she took a deep breath and started singing a song he'd never heard before, all the while she stroked his hair:
    
    
      _"Adorned with myrtle and a bridal gown,
    the watchman's daughter, the rosy maid,
    Steps into the cage of the lion; he lies down 
    at his mistress's feet, and nestles there.
    
    The powerful creature, wild and unbridled,
    gazes devotedly and intelligently up at his mistress;
    the young woman, gentle and lovely,
    caresses him tenderly and weeps all the while:
    
    "We were, in days that are no longer,
    such true playmates, as a child will be with another child,
    and we loved and liked each other well;
    the days of childhood lie so distant!
    
    Powerfully, before we could believe it,
    you were shaking your head with a kingly mane;
    I grew up as well, as you can see: I am 
    no longer a child with a child's mind.
    
    O were I a child again, and could stay with you,
    my strong, faithful, honest animal!
    But I must follow my destiny
    to go to foreign lands with a foreign husband.
    
    He thought I was fair
    and I was wooed; it is now in the past:
    a wreath in my hair, my good friend,
    and so many tears that I can not see.
    
    Do you understand me? You look at me so grimly.
    I am already bound, so be calm;
    Look, I see him coming, he whom I must follow;
    I'll give you then, my friend, one final kiss."
    
    And as the lips of the maiden touched him,
    one could feel the cage trembling,
    and as he looked out through the bars at the young man,
    the anxious bride was seized by horror.
    
    He placed himself at the door of the cage, guarding it;
    he waved his tail, and roared with power.
    She asked pleadingly, threatened and then demanded
    to be let out, but he defended the exit with fury.
    
    Outside there arose a confused outcry.
    The young man called: bring me a sword;
    I'll shoot him down, I'll take care of him.
    The beast roared, foaming with rage.
    
    The wretched girl risked moving near the door,
    and, transformed, he fell on his mistress:
    the lovely form, a grisly crime,
    lay torn and bleeding, disfigured in the dust.
    
    And having spilled this beloved blood,
    he lay down beside the corpse with a gloomy air;
    he lay thus, sunk in mourning and pain
    until the fatal blade pierced his heart."_
    

 

"Which song is that?" Sandor asked sleepily when she got silent.

"It's called  _The Lion Bride_ "  Sansa said. "Not very known, but I heard one of our cooks sing it the night before King Robert and the Lannister's came to Winterfell. I don't know, it felt fitting. I have always felt outside of  my siblings with our sigil. I have never been much of a wolf, like the others. I'm more like ... a bird. But the Lannisters are not lions either. Lions are noble animals, wild and cruel sometimes - like in this song. But they do not lie, deceive and manipulate. It's just a sigil. So I won't feel so bad about not being a wolf through and through."

"You have the wolf inside you, Sansa" Sandor said in a low voice. "It's not as clear as it may be in you siblings, aye, but it's there. But even if you are a wolf, or a dog, since you're a Clegane now, a part of you will always be my Little Bird."

Sansa laughed warmly. "I would never want to stop be your Little Bird. As long as you always will be  _my_ Hound."

Sandor groaned. "I have belonged to you from the moment I wiped the blood from your lip in King's Landing, Little Bird. Maybe before that. And I always will. " 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember the mentions of the embroidery?  
> Give me your thoughts, people! 
> 
> Psst. The song Sansa is singing in this chapter is an old Swedish folk song that I learned and loved as a little girl. This is the English version of the song - if you want to listen to the Swedish version, you have a link to it here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsIUjM_-AOE


	23. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Sandor arrives at Riverrun with the Blackfish and his men. Catelyn and Robb greets them, not knowing that Brynden brought Sansa and Sandor with him.  
> How will this meeting go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Just a short chapter this time - I will try to break this big happening up in smaller parts - makes it easier for me to work through it!

Sansa didn't think she had been this nervous since her time in King's Landing. Of course she had been afraid after that - when Sandor got hurt by Trant, for example, but she had not been nervous - because she knew that whatever happened she had him. Him and their child, safely growing inside her.

But now ... she was so frightened of what her mother and Robb would do. She had tried to look secure in front of Sandor, saying that her family surely wanted her happiness most of all. But truth be told, she was not so sure of that.

Robb had made himself king, and until he got a child himself she, Sansa, was his heir. Heir to Winterfell and the North. Since Bran and Rickon now were dead. And Arya was missing, so she was not just heir, she was her mothers only daughter, now. 

They would want her to make a good match, with a powerful family from the North or the Riverlands. Instead she had married a second son from a minor house in King's Landing. Without her brother's consent. 

Yes, she doubted that they would be happy about that. And not about the baby, either, since that made it clear that hers and Sandor's marriage was consummated and true. Would they try to force her get rid of it? Would the try to trick her? 

Sansa hoped it would not come to that, but to be sure she would have to make some things clear to her family, hopefully before a bloodbath started. A sudden rush of anger fluttered in her chest, and she took power from it. Sandor had taught her that anger could make you powerful, if you used it the right way. His anger was a thunderstorm, with the force to kill anything in it's way - that was what made him powerful. 

Hers was an ice cold wind, touching it's target with calmness, but still strong. And that was the anger she would have to use with her family, Robb especially. She still loved her mother and brother but she was so angry with them all the same. Angry with them for leaving her in King's Landing. Angry with Robb for just trusting the Lannister's word that both Arya and her was still in the Red Keep. Angry with her mother for apparently favoring Robb and staying with him all this time. If she had gone home to Winterfell Theon never could have taken it, and murdered Bran and Rickon. 

And all those reasons was why they had lost their voice when it came to dictate her life. She would live for  _her_ now. Her, Sandor and their child, and maybe in the future -  _children._

 

The rode in onto the yard in front of Riverrun. Brynden Tully was at the front of him men, on his horse, while Sandor and Sansa shared Stranger back at the rear. Sandor, Brynden and her had gone over their plan. Catelyn and Roslin, Robb's new wife, would most probably be at Riverrun, but maybe not Robb. But whether he was or not was not that important, since he would have left guards with his mother and wife. And when they saw Sandor, it could come to an attack, no matter what Brynden said. That was why Sansa would stay close to Stranger, Sandor had decided. The Riverrun guards would not want to hurt her, but the could try to seize her to get her away from him. Stranger would prevent that, since he (to everyone's amazement) had gotten pretty fond of his master's wife.

Sandor would stay close to Sansa, but still with so much distance that he could defend himself, should it come to that. He dismounted Stranger, and helped Sansa down, just as the front gate opened and Robb Stark strode out into the sunlight, a beautiful woman with dark hair following his trail. Beside her was Catelyn Tully Stark, and she looked tired, but happy to see her uncle. So far no one noticed the two standing back. Well, that is, no _human._

Just as Sansa felt a little relieved, that maybe uncle Brynden would have time to explain, a big, grey shadow walked up by Robb's side. _Grey Wind_ , Sansa thought.  _He has gotten so big! So beautiful and ferocious! If only Lady would had lived she would had been just as big ..._

The direwolf sniffed in the air, his ears pointing straight up in the air, then he throw his head back and howled, to just a second later abandon Robb's side, and running towards the one who had been his sister's mistress.

"Grey Wind!" Robb yelled. "What in the Seven hells ...!" then he interrupted himself. To Sansa it seemed like everything happened in just a second, but was it?

Grey Wind yapped happily, and jumped onto Sansa, whose hood went off when they tumbled to the ground. _She_ was not afraid, she knew Grey Wind would never hurt her, but Sandor was horrified.

"Fucking hell!" he swore, and dived right into their heap. "Get off her, you big beast!" he did not sound as threatening as he probably should had done to a man, he understood that the wolf was just happy, but he was also heavy, and she was with child.

Catelyn Stark stood with wide eyes and just stared when her daughter managed to get up, her hair and face revealed. "Sansa?" she whispered. "My ... my little lemoncake, is that you?"

Robb had been amazed as well, but now he looked at the man by his sisters side. His eyes narrowed. "I know that voice" he hissed and grasped the head of his sword. "You are the Lannister Hound. _Why_ are you here?! Has my great-uncle taken you prisoner? In that case, don't touch my sister, you filthy mutt!"

Sansa felt her anger coil. The pregnancy did  _not_ help in cases like these. "Don't call him that, Robb Stark! He is not the Lannister Hound! He is Sandor Clegane and he is my lord husband!" Too late she understood that she had said that loud. The gasp that went through her family, and the guards of Riverrun she would remember forever. 

Robb looked totally ridiculous, like he had three big holes in his face, his eyes and his mouth wide open. Sansa could not help but giggle, which of course not helped the case.

"She has gone mad from her time in King's Landing!" Robb said. "Take her inside!"

"No, Your Grace, you don't understand ..." Brynden Tully started.

"Not now!" Robb spit out.

 

A few of the Riverrun guard moved closer to Sansa and Sandor, but before Sandor even had drew his sword, Grey Wind made something peculiar. He looked into Sansa's eyes, tilted his head a little, then he looked at Sandor, as if judging him. When the guards where just a few feet away the direwolf turned to them, standing in front of both Sansa and Sandor and growled. The guards stopped immediately in their tracks.

Grey Wind showed them his teeth, then he looked at his dumbstruck master. He whimpered a little, then he pushed Sansa even more to Sandor's side, to then lay down in front of them. Sansa bent down and stroked his ear, the way she remembered he used to love. Then she turned to Robb.

"Well brother ... Grey Wind trusts my judgement. Will you trust him, since you don't trust me?" The young king's cheeks turned a little pink and he looked helplessly at their mother. 

Catelyn looked like she had swallowed a lemon, but she clenched her teeth and turned to the Blackfish. "What does this mean, uncle?"

"Like I said, my dear. Nothing is as we thought it was. Hear your daughter out. And her husband. Yes, he is her husband. And a worthy one at that."

A tear rolled down Catelyn's cheek when she looked at her daughter standing proud beside the feared Lannister man. Their hands were joined and she leaned into him. It didn't seemed like she was mad in any way, but who could she be sane, and the same time do that? What was going on?

She sighed loudly. "Well ... then I guess we better eat some lunch, everyone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	24. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa sit down with Robb and Catelyn to have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said before, I do not own these characters, or the universe - I just borrowing them. 
> 
> Also: I will not include Roose Bolton or his bastard in this story. They simply do not exist (It's not like the Seven Kingdoms would miss two monsters. Plenty of those left).

Sandor thought he never had experienced a tension such as this one. If it had been a little thicker, you would probably see it in the air of this room.  _I think the time when Lord Tywin discovered that his new gooddaughter was a whore is the only situation that could compare_ , he found himself thinking. Under some other circumstances it would have almost been funny. 

The Young Wolf and his wife had led them to the Great Hall of Riverrun, with a few guards to follow. Lady Catelyn Stark walked beside her uncle, never taking her eyes of Sansa. The Little Bird herself walked beside him, holding his hand hard, as if she was afraid someone would take him away from her.

 _Not as long as I bloody live, Little Bird_ , Sandor thought and gave her hand a light squeeze. She looked up at him and smiled. 

Robb Stark took a seat in the high chair by the long table, his wife beside him. Catelyn Stark went over to them and seated herself beside the little queen. Sandor studied her.

She did not look like a ferocious wolf queen, that was for certain. But somehow she was not bad royal material, either. She was a Frey, he knew, but he could trace no likeness from that old bugger Walder Frey in her.  _She must take after her mother,_ Sandor thought.  _Which one of the wives he's had that now may be._

She was pretty, in a common way. Not a rare beauty, but nice to look upon, with soft features, dark hair in curls and sweet honey colored eyes. He noticed a little gap between her upper front teeth when she talked, but if that was the only "disadvantage" the young girl had Robb Stark could consider himself lucky. Sandor had heard the rumors about how some of the Frey's bunch looked and acted. 

"Well" Robb said, and gestured to the chairs on the other side of the table. "Sit, sister. And ... Clegane." Sandor could hear the hesitation before he was approved to sit, too. It irritated him, and it clearly irritated Sansa too. She hold on to his hand all the way to the table, and refused to let go after they had sat. She placed their joined hands on her armrest, plain for all to see. Robb's mouth tightened when he saw it. 

Brynden Tully took a seat beside Sansa. Sandor hoped that meant that he would still support their story. 

Servants came in with pitchers and plates with cheese, ham, grapes, eggs and dark bread. Sandor denied the wine, and asked for ale instead. Sure, his bad leg and certainly his nerves could use some wine, but he thought that it would be best to keep his wits about him for this. 

Sansa grimaced at both the wine and the ale, and asked for water with ginger instead. Sandor knew that the alcohol made her stomach upset now when she was pregnant. The maester had said that ginger was calming for the nausea, and since then Sansa had developed a taste for it.

"Thank you. You may leave us" Robb Stark said when everyone had got their food and beverage. The servants bowed and left. Only a few guards remained.

"Now, Sansa" Robb started. "What ... what is going on? How did you came here? And what is _he_ doing here?" he pointed at Sandor with his fork. 

Sansa snorted. " _He_ happens to be your brother by marriage now, Robb. And before either of you say anything" she said when Robb looked like he would interrupt, "yes, he is my husband. We were wed by a septon, both willingly. I am not forced or tricked. I love Sandor, and I want no one else. And if you can't accept that, you will say so now, and we will leave."

Sandor focused on hold his face under control. He wanted to grin like a mad man at his Little Bird even tone. No one would think her a forced woman after that.

"... But Sansa ..." Catelyn Stark said with a weak voice.

"Niece" Brynden Tully said. "Sansa is right. Clegane is her lord husband now. I found them in Maidenpool a while ago. Lord Clegane had been wounded when he defended Sansa against some Lannister men. Sansa did not flee when he became wounded, instead she cried out for help for her husband. She would not had done that if she was not happy with him. And I have talked with them both on our travel here. We made a grievous mistake when we left Sansa in King's Landing, Your Grace. Sandor Clegane kept her safe for us, and he saved her from a horrible destiny. He is a worthy husband of her. Just let her tell, and you will think like me."

The Young Wolf had gone pale while the Blackfish talked. _Serves him right,_ Sandor thought.  _He should be ashamed of himself, leaving his sister like that. And I'll be damned, but I'm going to make sure that he regrets ever chaining up the Kingslayer, instead of trading him._

Roslin Frey laid her hand on her husbands arm, and then turned to Sansa. "I'm your goodsister, Sansa. My name is Roslin. I've heard about you, but it's nice to meet you. Please, tell us your story, from the beginning to the end."

Sansa smiled at the other woman, and Sandor felt himself warm up to her a little.

"First off" Sansa began, "there was only me in King's Landing. Arya is gone. She disappeared the day they arrested father. She has been missing over a year."

Catelyn gasped. "What? Is Arya missing? But ... but they said she was there ... _Petyr_ said she was there! Why would he lie?!"

At that Sandor actually barked out a laugh. Catelyn Stark turned to him, eyes blazing.

"Something amuses you, ser?!"

"I'm no ser, Lady Stark" Sandor rasped. "But the one thing I am, is acquainted with the members of the court. And Littlefinger is a liar. He has never done anything if he has not gained anything of it himself. I would not trust that man as far as I could throw him."

Catelyn puffed out her chest and tried not to look away from his face. "Petyr is like a brother to me."

Sandor snorted. "Aye, and Gregor _is_ a brother to me. Where am I losing you?"

Brynden said: "The Lannisters knew that two hostages would be more valuable, especially after Bran and Rickon ... if we found out that Arya was gone we could had sent out search parties, and maybe found her. And they would lose leverage on us."

Roslin coughed. "We can talk about what we will do about Arya later. Please, Sansa, continue."

Sansa nodded. "I ... I was happy in King's Landing in the beginning. I dreamed about being queen and being married to my prince. But after ... after father's execution my life became a nightmare. The Lannister's showed their true colors. I pleaded with Joffrey, asked him to be merciful to father. He said he would. I thought that he meant that he would send him back to the North, or let him take the Black. But the only mercy Joffrey meant was that he would give him a clean death. When I watched ..."

Sansa shivered, and Sandor saw that she was close to tears. He released his hand from hers so he could lay his arm around her shoulders. Robb frowned at him, but did not say anything.

"The day after father's death Joffrey made me go up to the battlement with him, so he could show me father's head, put on a spike. And septa Mordane, and all the others ..."

Roslin Frey put her hand over her mouth, making a little retching sound. The Young Wolf sat like someone had petrified him. Catelyn's eyes were full of tears.

"Joffrey said that he would give me _your_ head, on his nameday." Sansa looked up at Robb. "I was foolish, I got angry. I said that maybe you would give me his. Then he ordered Meryn Trant to beat me."

"He split her lip" Sandor interposed, gently touching the same spot.

"I got so angry after that, that ... I was going to push him. Push him of the battlements. I did not care that I would going down with him. I just wanted him dead. Myself too." Catelyn looked horrified. 

"But Sandor stopped me. He wiped the blood of my lip and gave me his handkerchief so Joffrey would not suspect anything."

 

Sansa continued her story. She told them of the time Joffrey had her stripped and beaten, she told them of the riot the day Myrcella left for Dorne, she told them of the fire in the Red Keep. And she told them of how Joffrey was going to force her into marriage, after Robb had married Roslin, and rape her so she could give him an heir.

"Every time you had a victory, I had to pay for it" she said with a weak voice. Robb Stark was pale as a corpse, and there was tears in his eyes as well. He did not let them flow, like his wife and mother, but they were there, Sandor noticed.

"The only thing that kept me together for a time was that I thought that you would come for me. But you never did." Sansa looked up, looking her brother straight in the eyes. "That was why I decided to go with Sandor, after Joffrey had declared he would marry me. Sandor has kept me safe, in every way he could. He saved me from being raped, he saved me from being burnt. It was just a short while after that, that I understood that I loved him. And he loves me too."

Robb Stark was quiet a short while. "Do you?" he asked Sandor. "Do you love my sister? Or do you want something else?"

Sandor felt his rage rise. "Like what?" he hissed. "Titles? Gold? Lands? Bugger that, wolf boy! If I wanted a title I could have gotten it from the old lion long ago. I spit on them. Gold? I have gold. I have won my shares of tourneys over the years. If you had had your face melted in a fucking brazier as a boy, do you honestly think you walk into a burning castle to save a woman, just so she can give you a title? Fuck you. I love Sansa. I would die for her if I had to!"

All the three on the other end of the table looked taken aback after his words. Robb rose from his chair and started pacing the floor.

"I must think on this" he said after a while. "But I will say this. I do not want you to leave, Sansa. You are my little sister, and ... and I have wronged you. I want you and Clegane to stay. We will accept your marriage."

 _That must have hurt_ , Sandor thought. But Sansa only smiled. "Thank you, Robb."

Robb nodded. "You two may go to your chamber and rest while I talk with my men about this. I will call you later on. Bernard!" he called. A servant came hurrying through the door.

"Please show my sister and her ... husband to a chamber."

"Yes, Your Grace" said the servant man. "This way, my lady, my lord."

Sandor followed Sansa, but turned when Robb said:

"Clegane!"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For watching over my sister."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! Comments make my day!


	25. Catelyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn still has her doubts about her daughters marriage. Robb and Brynden disagrees with her, but it's the very thing she was not supposed to hear that convinces her to give Sandor a chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Catelyn's point of view.   
> This is a fan fiction. I don't own these characters or the universe

The door closed behind her daughter and the Hound. Catelyn rose from her chair, and walked over to Robb, determined to talking some sense into him before he met with his men. 

"You can't possibly mean what you just said!" she said to her son. He looked confused.

"What do you mean, mother?" 

"Robb, Sansa is a  _Stark_ _!_ " Catelyn bellowed. "She is a descender of the First men, a princess of the North! She is also your heir, until Roslin gives you a son! You ... you can't let her be married to that  _thing!_ "

"Careful, Cat!" her uncle said. "Sandor Clegane is a man. A former Lannister man, yes, but not any longer. And he has saved your daughter many times over, or have you not listened to your girl at all?" 

Catelyn turned to face Brynden Tully. Why was he supporting this folly? Did no one else but her see this for the  _madness_ that it was? "I'm grateful that he has looked out for Sansa!" she snapped. "But ... he was in the Kingsguard. Of course he would try to make the king's betrothed favor him! She was to be his queen!"

"Yes" Brynden Tully said. "She was supposed to be queen. Still, the rest of the Kingsguard happily beat her and humiliated her. He never did. Was that too to gain her liking?"

 _Why does he make me sound like an idiot?"_ Catelyn thought. She  _had_ to make them see reason. 

"Mother" Robb started. "I'm not very happy about this either. But what would you have me do? They are married. I can't go against the gods of the Seven, even if they are not gods of the North." 

Catelyn drew a big breath, then she said the one thing that Sansa maybe would never forgive her for. But Sansa was just a girl. Catelyn did not doubt that Sansa had feelings for the Hound. But it  _had_ to be some kind of hero worship. Her little Sansa would never ... never marry a brute like that otherwise. She wanted to be a lady, wife to a high lord! Sandor Clegane was not better than some hired sellsword. So she said it, and only prayed that some day Sansa would see reason:

"You can annul it, Robb. You are her brother  _and_ her king. You have that power."

Robb gasped, and Roslin paled. Brynden Tully slammed his fist to the table. "No, he cannot do that, Cat. Unless you wan't to leave your daughter with a bastard. Sansa is with child." 

Now it was Catelyn's turn to gasp. "What?!" Robb caught her when her legs went out under her, and helped her into a chair. He looked angry, but at her, not the Hound who had gotten his sister with child. 

"Mother" Robb said in an icy tone. "I would never do that to Sansa. Has she not suffered enough? Are you blind? She clearly loves the man. And even if ... if he is somewhat rude and rough I believe he loves her too. And if she is carrying his child too, then my hands really are tied. Do you think someone else would want her, with a bastard in her belly? I think not." 

"He is low-born, Robb! A second son of some  _kennelmaster_!" 

"And Joffrey was a prince who became king" her uncle said quietly. 

"That's not the same thing!" she protested. "Joffrey is not a true Baratheon. He is a bastard, born of incest!" 

"My father is Lord of the Twins" Roslin said calmly. "He is my father, but I have never been fooled to think him a good man, Lady Stark."

"What do you mean?" Catelyn asked. 

Robb answered: "My wife is trying to make you understand that just because you are highborn, it doesn't make you a good person automatically. We have all heard about the Lannister Hound. But if he has left the Lannisters ..." he interrupted himself.

Brynden rose to his feet and went over to Catelyn's chair. He took one of her hands in his, and picked up where Robb left. "We have heard about the Lannister Hound. But has anyone truly heard about Sandor Clegane? Give the man a chance Cat. Because otherwise ... I swear, you will lose Sansa. I know you want what's best for her, but please, trust her to decide what is. She has been on her own for over a year in King's Landing. If you try to barge in and remove all that she has made for herself she will turn on you."

 _Will she?_ Cat thought.  _She can't. I'm her mother, she would not do that ... would she?_

Then she remembered her own sister, Lysa. Lysa had not wanted to marry Jon Arryn, but their father had made her. And now Lord Huster was lying on his death bed, and Lysa would not come to him. Despite all the pleads Catelyn and Brynden had send with ravens, she would not budge. It was almost as if ... she did not care that their father would soon be gone from the world. 

 _Will I be in my father's place in my older years, if I come between Sansa and ... Sandor?_ she thought. Of course she would not want that! But still ...

"And about Sansa being Robb's heir, Lady Stark, you don't have to worry" Roslin smiled. "We will soon have a new little Stark to join us!" she stroke her belly. Robb scowl was replaced with a bright smile at her words.

"Yes, the maester confirmed that this morning" he said, taking his wife's hand and kissed it.

Catelyn gulped for breath, while Brynden clapped his hands and offered his congratulations. _I will be a grandmother to ..._ two  _little children_ , Catelyn thought.  _A prince, or a princess and ... a lord, or a lady._ For the first time since Ned had died, since she had received the news of Bran and Rickon she felt a sudden warmth in her chest. A light smile played on her lips. She rose.

"I will go and talk to Sansa and ... Clegane. If he is the father of my grandchild he must stay in the family, but I will have to get to know him more before I ... before ..."

"It's alright Cat" Brynden said. "You will need some time to get used to this, but as long as you are willing to accept it, I'm sure that everything will be fine. Go to them and talk things over."

She nodded, and left the Great Hall, asking a servant along the way which chamber her daughter had been given, and made her way there. When she was almost at the door, however she froze on the spot. Sansa was wailing, as in pain, and those masculine grunts ... _Is he trying to rape my daughter in_ my  _childhood home?!_

She was ready to rip the door from it's hinges, when something else was heard, that made her blush like a maiden, and almost retch:

"Sandor, by the gods! I won't break, harder! I _need_ you! I'm so close!" then a loud moan, that could not be mistaken for pain.

"Better, Little Bird?" she heard Clegane rasp. "That's it. Peak for me. Come all over my cock. Seven hells, you are so fucking beautiful like this!"

Catelyn let out a small cough, and then ran as fast as she could for her own chamber. Apparently _this_ was not a good time to visit her daughter and her husband. 

When she came to her own chamber she thought back to what she had heard. She felt ashamed that she had so easily jumped to the conclusion that Clegane had raped Sansa. She _did_ not want to think of her daughter in that kind of situation, but it was clear that Sansa was getting pleasure in her marriage bed, and that Clegane was good to her.

Catelyn knew that not many men cared about their woman in the marriage bed. Sure, some were gentle enough, which made the women sustain it with ease. Some even liked it. But very few cared about letting their women get release. But apparently Clegane did.

Catelyn decided then and there that she would do her best to get to know Sandor Clegane, and accept her daughters marriage. If he had saved Sansa, protected her and even brought her here, to her family he could not be all bad. And ... and if he truly liked his wife to enjoy their marriage duties ... well, what more could a woman really ask for?     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, please!


	26. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa makes use of their "alone time" in Riverrun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we will see what actually happened behind that closed door.  
> This is a fancfic! I do NOT own these characters or the universe. I just borrowing them. 
> 
> AN: I have taken the liberty to experiment a little with the laws in this fanfic. You will see how when Sansa speaks. I hope you'll find it believable.

Sansa walked into their chamber and went straight to the window, looking out. Sandor turned to the servant - Bernard. "My wife will want a bath after our travel, but I think we will rest a while first. It has been a stressful morning."

"Of course, my lord" the servant said to his shoes, not looking him in the eyes. "There is a rope right there, you see? By the side of the bed. Just pull it two times when you'll want your bath and the servants in the kitchen will hear it."

"Good" Sandor said. "Then that is all."  The servant bowed and then left. Sandor closed the door and barred it, then turned. The chamber they had been given was big and nicely decorated, with good furnishing and high windows. Sansa turned from the view and smiled at him. "It's beautiful here" she said. "I have never visited Riverrun before. Uncle Brynden and grandfather Hoster always came to Winterfell."

Sandor nodded and started to take of his mail. "I heard your grandfather is not feeling well" he said to Sansa. She shook her head and looked a little sad.

"No, he is dying. But of age, so I guess that's the best a man can hope for."

Sandor snorted. "If you are a lord, at least." Sansa stuck her tounge out at him. _Very ladylike, Little Bird_ , Sandor amusingly thought.

"You have to stop talking like that about lords and ladies, my love" Sansa scolded him. "You are a lord now, after all."

Sandor almost chocked. "Like fuck I am!" he gasped.

"Oh yes, you are. The laws of the Seven Kingdom says that when two people engage in a marriage union the one of more noble birth share their titles with their mate. Therefor, you are now a lord, whether you like it or not."

Sandor drew air into his lungs and silently counted to ten. "You think I care about those laws, Little Bird?"

"I doubt you do. I don't care about them either, I would have married you still if you were just a blacksmith's son, or the new Targaryen heir come to life - just because you are my Sandor. That's all I ever want from you. But I'm just saying that you have to get used to it from everyone else."

Sandor shrugged, putting his armor aside along with his sword and dagger. Sansa walked closer to him, smiling contently. "Do you know how impressive you are?" she said, letting her hands travel from his shoulders to his broad chest.

"You are so beautiful!" Sandor actually barked out a laugh at that, hugging his wife closer to him.

"That's a first" he said and chuckled. "I have been called many things in my days but never beautiful."

Sansa smiled. "Well, it's true anyway. You are beautiful, husband."

" _You_ are the one who is beautiful, Little Bird" Sandor insisted. "I'll have my hands full to keep these Northerner boys away from you. Speaking of which, do you think your brothers bannermen will accept us now when your brothers has?"

Sansa chewed her lip in silent for a while, before she answered. "I don't know. I hope so. Now, when I'm back from King's Landing, escaped from a marriage with Joffrey many of the men from great houses in the North would have wanted me for their sons. They will not be happy that I'm already married. To a Southern man, nonetheless. But Robb's word is what matters."

Sandor nodded, kissing the top of her head. "When we see your brother next I will try and talk with him about the Lannisters."

Sansa looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. "What about them?"

"Well ... Little Bird, let me be honest. Right now I have no great love for your brother. He left you in that rats' nest for over a year to be tormented. Sure, war is war, I understand that, more than many others, but still - he could had done _something_! He could had sent a spy to King's Landing, making sure that you really were safe, instead of just trusting the Lannister's word about it. Instead he did nothing. But  _your_ safety is depending on his victory. So I will give him so much information I have."

"But ..." Sansa said "would you do that? Tell on your former ... masters?"

"They were never my masters, Little Bird. I never said a vow to them. I only fought for the Lannisters because I had nowhere else to go for many years. But you mean so much more to me than they ever have. You and our pup."

He put his hand on her stomach, smiling when he clearly could feel the outlines of the little bump there. She could still hide her condition under heavy skirts, but soon enough everyone would know that she carried their son inside her. Sandor sank to his knees and started kissing her stomach through her clothes, breathing warm air onto it. "Do you know how proud it makes me that you are my wife, and the soon-to-be-mother of my child?" he whispered, spreading kisses along the soft material. Sansa sighed, kneading his hair in her hands. 

He straightened up a little, taking her breast into his big hands, carefully since she had become more sensitive there. "To see these beautiful teats soon flowing with milk for my son ..." he gently pressed kisses along her neckline, dragging the cloth out of the way. Sansa gasped and drew her nails into his scalp, but it felt wonderful.

He abandoned her breast for the time being, to lift her skirts and press kisses along her inner thighs, just above her stockings. He rubbed her sex softly on top of her smallclothes, feeling to his satisfaction that they were already damp.

"Mmm ..." he rolled down her stockings, and kissed her behind her knee. "I think the Little Bird longs for her Hound ... is that so, wife?"

Sansa panted heavily but managed to crook out: "Yes. Yes, I want you, my love. Please, please!"

"You never have to beg me, Sansa" Sandor said, getting rid of her stockings and shoes. "But I must say that it is so fucking arousing when you do it!"

Sansa smiled a little wicked smile, taking a step back, starting to undo her lacing. "Please, Sandor, my love ... please will you _fuck_ me?" Sandor almost swallowed his own tounge. His cock went hard as a Valyrian sword, throbbing inside his breeches. He did not know why the sound of his wife's pretty mouth uttering curses were so arousing, but it was. 

He rose to his full height at once, ripping his tunic off, kicking away his boots. When he looked up Sansa stood before him in only her smallclothes. She licked her lips and walked up to him, draggins his breeches down.

"Oh" she said in a surprised voice. "You don't have ... any smallclothes." Sandor shook his head. 

"Well, that's makes things so much easier, don't you think?" she said in a horse voice, kissing the head of his cock. She was about to suck him into her mouth when he hauled her up into his arms.

"Not today, my eager Little Bird. I have to get inside you!"

"Yes!" Sansa hissed, rubbing her sex against his abdomen to get some friction. He didn't bother with unlacing her smallclothes, just ripped them at the seam, throwing them behind him, then he went over to the bed. 

He laid down, placing her on top of him. "I want you to ride me, Sansa" he rasped. "I want to see your pretty teats bounce while you rock on top of me, see your fiery hair fly ..."

Sansa looked lost a moment. "I don't ... Can I ... I mean, can women do that?" Sandor was confused, but then remember that his wife was a highborn lady, not some tavern wench. She probably did not know about the many positions of lovemaking, apart from the ones he had shown her.

"Yes, a woman can be on top" he said. "Sit on your knees just now" he said. She did that. Sandor slid a finger along her slit to make sure she was ready. Then he took a hold of his cock, looking up at her. "Now sink down on it, Little Bird. In whatever pace you like."

Sansa did so, slowly. He had to grit his teeth to not roar out loud at the feeling. It felt so fucking good. "Start moving your hips up and down, like when you're riding Stranger" he said in a hoarse voice.

Sansa winked at him. "Only this time you will be my stallion" she whispered before she started moving. Sandor could not answer her, the words seemed to have left him. The feeling of his Little Bird, his wife slamming herself up and down on his cock was nearly to much. 

He pressed one hand to her sex, rubbing her little pleasure spot, but kept his hips still. This was her moment, until she asked him to help. She was so bloody gorgeous where she sat on top of him, moving up and down, breasts bouncing with a fine sheen of sweat on her belly and between her breasts. 

"Gods, Sandor!" she whimpered after a while. "I can't ... I need ...!"

"What do you need, Sansa?" he rasped. "Just say it and I'll make it happen."

"I need you! This isn't enough!" she nearly screamed, and that was his cue. He moved his hands to her hips, to hold onto her, then he started thrusting up into her wet heat, hard and fast, all the while she slammed down on him. 

"Fuck, Little Bird! You feel so damn good!" he grunted. Sansa just wailed in answer.

Then his Hound-senses picked up something. A very faint noise outside their door. The servants? Well screw them. 

"Sandor, by the gods, I won't break! Harder! I need you! I'm so close!" Sansa moaned. 

Sandor increased his pace, thrusting harder, and using his one hand to pinch her little nub. Sansa let out a shriek of pleasure, and then he felt her sex contract around his cock, clenching him hard, like it was begging for his seed.

"Better Little Bird?" he rasped. "That's it. Peak for me. Come all over my cock. Seven Hells, you are so beautiful like this!"

He felt her clench again. Sansa liked his foul mouth in the bedroom, he had noticed, and he took every opportunity to show her. Then he heard another noise outside the door. A cough, then footsteps running away. A cough that almost sounded like ...

He was interrupted in his thoughts when he felt his own peak slam into him, his seed spurting in hot streaks inside Sansa, all the while he roared. 

_"Fucking hell!"_

 

A while later when Sansa laid on top of him, exhausted but happy and he stroke her hair and back in calm motions Sansa said:

"I hope that the servants didn't walked by again. That would be little embarrassing." Sandor chuckled, but decided to not say who had  _really_ walked by their chamber. Lady Stark could being it up herself if she wanted to, but somehow he doubted that.

 

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	27. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Sandor get an update on the news from King's Landing. Sandor and Robb discuss war strategies with his men, and Sansa takes the opportunity to once again be just a young girl

At dinner it was just Robb, Roslin, her mother and her great-uncle present, apart from her and Sandor. When the servants left the room, after leaving the table filled with various dishes, including Sansa's beloved lemoncakes, Robb said:

"I have talked with my men, Clegane, about our situation. Many of them were ... well, let's say they are a bit skeptical at this point." Sandor snorted. 

"Let them be. I would be too if a man I considered an enemy suddenly appeared on my doorstep, claiming to now be my comrade. I'm neither slow-minded, nor complacent, Stark - I understand that I need to prove my loyalty before they trust me, and that is just right - that is what every new man must do. If they plan to stab me in the back, though, just because I'm born a Clegane, or because I'm the one who married Sansa, I demand that you tell me. Because _then_ I will not exchange a word with your men, except maybe for telling them to go fuck themselves." Roslin almost choked on her wine, making Robb cast a worried glance at her before turning to Sandor again.

"Could you mind your language in front of my wife? And I'm sure Sansa is not fond of that kind of language either." Sansa felt her cheeks turn red, and looked down on her plate, remembering how hot it turned her when her husband used his foul language in the bedroom, and mere hours ago in this house, on top of that. She looked over at her mother, hoping that Catelyn wouldn't notice her embarrassment and asking about it. But Catelyn Stark were not looking at her daughter. Actually, she mimicked Sansa's motion, looking down at her plate, her cheeks burning too.

 _Strange_ , Sansa thought. But before she could guess why, Roslin cleared her throat and put her small hand on Robb's arm. "It's no matter, Robb. I was not startled by Lord Clegane's language, it's just ... well, my father speaks that way sometimes. I have not heard it since I was brought here. It amused me, it's all."

Sandor stared at the young woman, looking a bit annoyed at first, but then his scowl cleared, and he just said: "I have not much in common with your father, Lady Roslin. But one thing we do have in common, that old man and I - we're saying what's on our mind." Roslin nodded. Robb looked over at his wife, then studying Sansa. When he understood that neither of the women would scold Sandor on his language he continued. 

"Alright, that's fair, Clegane. No, they are not going to murder you when you turn your back. I'm their king, and I have said that for all you've done for my sister I'm willing to give you a chance. And uncle Brynden already have, and that goes a long way with the Riverland men." Brynden Tully nodded his agreement.

"But yes, both my men and I want you to tell us what you know of the Lannister's, so we can make plans. Their tactics, their fears ... you see my point?"

"I do" Sandor said. "And I will do that. I have already told the Little Bird I would help you bring the Lannister's down." Robb looked confused. "Who's 'the Little Bird'?" he asked.

Sandor and Sansa looked at each other. Sansa were smiling a warm smile at her husband; he looked slightly embarrassed. So long Sandor had called her that, and still nearly no one knew about it. Sansa took his hand. 

"I'm the Little Bird" she said. "Sandor ... he started calling me that in King's Landing, and it stuck." Catelyn looked up from her plate. it could have been Sansa's imagination, but she thought her mother looked over at Sandor, with a sudden warmth in her eyes. Roslin just smiled.

"Oh" Robb said, a bit taken aback. "Well, that's ... good then."

They ate in silence for awhile, then Sandor asked: "What's the news from King's Landing? What are the Lannister's up to?" Robb dabbed at his mouth with the napkin, then he said: "Well ... your escape was quite a punch, I could tell you that. You have been deemed a traitor, Clegane, with a price of 50.000 gold dragon's on your head. The Lannister boy has broken of his engagement to Sansa, but if she is found he has commanded that she is brought back to him, to be punished for making him look like a fool. Tywin Lannister has struck a bargain with the Tyrell's - Renly Baratheon's widow, Margery Tyrell is now betrothed to Joffrey and her brother Loras has been taken up permanently in the Kingsguard."

"The Knight of the Flowers?" Sansa said. Sandor looked at her, irritation suddenly shining in his eyes. Robb nodded at her.

 _Is Sandor jealous?_ Sansa thought. He had no reason to be. Loras Tyrell did not entice her anymore, the way he once had. He was a pretty face, that was all. Like a beautiful painting, or a fine jewelry. Something nice to lay your eyes on, but nothing you couldn't live without. But she was glad for this Margery's sake. If Loras Tyrell, the Knight of the Flowers was her brother, and he was in Joffrey's Kingsguard, then maybe she would have the protection that Sansa had lacked. 

"What else?" Sandor asked, still sounding a bit annoyed. Sansa, feeling a bit smug at his jealousy, stuck her hand under the table, pretending to straighten her skirt before she laid her hand on Sandor's thigh, stroking lightly. He coughed a bit, but said nothing, looking a bit brighter after that.

"Your brother ... The Mountain is around the parts of Harrenhall, doing Tywin Lannister's bidding. Exactly what I do not know" Robb said slowly. Sandor's face darkened, and Sansa hoped he would not lose his temper. But the only sign you could see how hard it was for Sandor to keep in check was that his eating knife was slightly bent after they were done. 

 

After their meal Robb wanted to have a private meeting Sandor and great-uncle Brynden, to talk about what they would do with the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister, who was still chained up in the dungeons below them. Sansa wanted to go outside. The sun was still shining, and the big yard with the flowers were calling to her, it felt. She wanted to run and play with a direwolf again. Even if this wasn't the North, it was more home than King's Landing had been. So she asked if she could borrow Grey Wind during their meeting.

Robb looked hesitant at first, since he always kept Grey Wind at his side, but at the sight of his sisters hopeful face he gave in. Roslin and Catelyn went to Lord Hoster's chamber, sitting with him.

Apart from Grey Wind's obvious protection Robb also sent two men with Sansa, just to be safe. But before she went out, she said. "Husband, just a quick word, if you please?"

Sandor nodded, and they went to another corner of the hallway, to have a little privacy. "What is it, Little Bird?"

"Well, Sandor ... at dinner I had the most strange feeling" Sansa said, a bit teasing in her voice.

"And what was that then?"

"That you, my most beloved husband still think that I'm swooning over the Knight of the Flowers." Sandor looked surprised at first, but then his old scowl was back.

"Can you blame me? You practically drooled over him on the day of your father's tourney, girl" he growled.

 _Oh, so now I am a girl again?_ Sansa thought. "I don't think I did, but if you say so" she snorted. "But who was I cheering for when the tourney was over? Loras Tyrell? No, _you._ "

Sandor gaped at her. "That was for me? I thought ... I thought you cheered the Tyrell punk, for being alive."

Sansa was horrified. "You never knew? All this time you thought ... oh, my love!" Without a thought of how unladylike she was being she throw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I was a silly girl then, yes. But even then I admired you for fighting off your monster of a brother, and saving someone. _That_ was what I was cheering for, my love. And know this: I do not want Loras Tyrell. I only want you!" 

Sandor hugged her back, pressing kisses along her neck, making a now familiar longing spreading between her legs. He was feeling it to, she could feel his manhood growing harder against her. "We best break this up, Little Bird" Sandor whispered. "Or I will take you in this hallway, propriety be damned!" Sansa giggled, but disentangled herself from him. "Later then?"

"Oh, you can be sure of that, little wife" Sandor growled, before winking at her, then he left to go after her brother.

 

Sansa was running along the yard with Grey Wind at her side. The direwolf was barking, inviting her to play by lowering his upper body and thud his paws into the ground. "Well, catch me then" Sansa laughed and pretended to run left, and when Grey Wind threw himself in that direction, Sansa changed course and ran right instead. She just came a few feet, of course, before Grey Wind caught up to her and ran in front of her, barking happily.

"Yes, yes, you  _are_ faster than me!" Sansa said with a giggle. Suddenly she felt something, in her lower stomach. She paused, a hand on her belly. Was she going to be sick again? No, she felt fine. Was there something wrong? Had she over strained herself? No, there would be pain then, wouldn't it? 

There was just a tiny flutter ... a little like a fish was flounder about ... then it dawned on her. The baby! Was it ...? Could she really feel it already? Grey Wind had tilted his head, looking at her. "What do you think, Grey Wind? Is he a fish, like a Tully? Or a direwolf, like a Stark? Or a hound, like a Clegane? A bit of all three?"

Grey Wind went closer to her, sniffing a little, then he whined and licked her belly on top of her dress. Sansa giggled again. "Well, a bit of direwolf must there be in him, since you can feel him too!" She stroked the direwolf's big head, then she started walking back to the keep. She could not wait to tell Sandor! 

 

A short way from there a huge man was sitting on his equal huge horse, following the redhead with his eyes. He could not see her very clear from here, but he remembered her, the second he saw that red hair, he remembered the Stark girl. It was almost two years since he'd seen her, on that tournament. He had noticed her, of course, noticed her beauty, like every other man would have. But he had not thought about her again, not until he heard the news. That his wretched whelp of a brother had stolen away with the king's betrothed, and then married her herself. He had not believed it. And if it was true, his little brother had probably forced her. Fucked her in the night, married her in the morning, like the idiot he was. But that fucking septon in Maidenpool said that the girl had looked ... happy. In love. Like his brother. He had paid for that with his life, the godly man, foolishly thought that he would spare him, just because he was a septon.

And now he had seen her play with that beast like a little child, laughing and running around. Clearly not a forced woman - he would know, he had seen many up close.

He had not seen the whelp, but he was here somewhere. Inside, maybe, sucking up to her brother. But they could not stay inside Riverrun forever. He knew his brother, knew he hated to be around too many people. Sandor would seek out the grounds outside the walls and fences, probably with that pretty thing. And he, Gregor, could wait. 

 _Enjoy your sudden rush of luck, little brother,_ he thought.  _I let you escape four-and-twenty years ago. I will not let you escape again. Father is not here, now. And that pretty whore of yours ... when I'm through with her she will regret she ever heard the name Clegane ..._   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! Comments make my day!


	28. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa takes their opportunity to ride out to enjoy each others company again. They don't know that someone is waiting for them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I'm sorry I have not updated in a while, but there is some trouble going on in my life right now. Here is a short one, and I'll try to make next one real long!   
> Warning! These next chapters will include mentions of extreme violence and foul language!

Sandor rode out through the gate in Riverrun on top of Stranger, with his Little Bird in front of him. Sansa's uncle, Edmure Tully had come back the day before, from his reconnaissance for the Young Wolf, so today all the men would discuss his findings and what they would do with that. Since Sandor was not very acquainted with the riverlands, he didn't feel he needed to take a big part of that meeting. He wanted away from these lords and their sons for a while, and just be with his wife. He had asked permission from the Young Wolf, who had granted it.

Sansa seemed happy that he wanted to spend the day with her. She was not unhappy these days, not like she had been in King's Landing, but she longed for his presence constantly. Sandor thought it had something to do with her condition. About two weeks ago, that day when Lady Stark apparently had heard them fucking like two wild rabbits, Sansa had came running from outside where she had played with Grey Wind, to tell him that she could feel the baby move. He had not believed her at first - that baby could not be bigger than an average lemon yet, how could she feel anything? But the maester had said that some babies were strong in their kicks early, and this one probably was that.

About a week later everyone knew that Sansa was pregnant with his pup. Her belly had grown considerable, and could not be hidden anymore. And now even he could feel the little kicks the baby made from inside her womb. He loved to place his big hands on top of her stomach, and set his good ear against her, listening to his son inside her. But even with all this joy, he was a bit worried. Sansa's belly grew fast, even though there was still about four and a half moon turns 'til the baby would arrive. This child seemes to take the size of the Cleganes, and he was worried that it would be to much for Sansa. But the maester had calmed him:

"Women are stronger than we think, Lord Clegane. Sansa is young and she has good hips for childbearing. Don't worry about that yet." He had also been a bit worried about their lovemaking. Sansa's sexual appetite didn't seem to go down at all, even if her stomach grew. But he had never had a pregnant woman before now, was it really ... _right_ to fuck someone who was growing a new person inside their body? What if ... what if he poked his son in the head with his prick when he fucked Sansa?

He had expressed his concerns with Sansa, and she had nearly rolled down onto the floor in her laughter. "Sandor ... even if your ... member is highly impressive, I doubt that it can reach to where the baby is. We can make love nearly until I'm due. We just have to be careful about you not weigh down on my belly now when it's getting bigger."

He had to smile now when he thought back to that. He had no problem with showing Sansa all the ways he could take her without weighing on her belly. Maybe he could show her something new when they had reached a little distance from Riverrun? He chuckled.

 

They had rode about three miles when they came to a lake. Sansa said she wanted to rest a while, so Sandor halted Stranger and dismounted. He helped Sansa down, and let Stranger do whatever he wanted. He had been locked up in the stable of Riverrun to long, he could use the time to roam free.

Sansa smiled at him and said: "I have thought about names for our baby, Sandor. Even if there are some time left, we should try and decide on one ..."

"Shit, Little Bird ... I have never thought about what kind of names I wanted my pups to have. Never thought I would have any ..." Sansa embraced him and kissed his scarred cheek.

"I know, my love. But we have one on the way now. Do you have any names you like him to have?"

Sandor hesitated. He had one name he wanted to tell Sansa, but it had nothing to do with this baby, if Sansa really was correct and it was a son. "I don't have any male names, but ... if we had a daughter ... this time or someday in the future ... I would like to call her Emmaline." He felt the hated warmth in his eyes which meant tears. 

"Emmaline?" Sansa said. "That's a beautiful name ... who ... who was she?" She seemed worried. Did she think ...? No, good Gods! 

"She was my sister, Little Bird. My little sister. Only a year younger than me. She died many years ago ... just a few months after I got burned ..."

Sansa gasped. "I never knew you had a sister!"

"Nearly no one does" Sandor answered. "They say she fell into the well, and drowned, but I don't believe that. She was scared to death of the well. Father had told her that the water demons pulled little girls into the water if they got too close. She never dared to go close to it. Someone pushed her." 

Sansa's eyes widened. "You don't ... you think that ...  _he_ did it?" Sandor nodded. 

Sansa opened her mouth to say something, but just that moment an arrow flew right into Sandor's shoulder from somewhere, and he roared like a bear. 

"Sandor!" Sansa yelled. He had sunk down on his knees, but he got up again and took her hand while he tried to draw his sword with his wounded right arm. 

"Come, Little Bird! It's not safe here!" 

But they had only ran a few steps when two men with crossbows came out from the threes and bushes, aiming at them. Sandor growled, and forced Sansa behind him. "Who the fuck are you?" he snarled. "Lannister men? Joffrey's little helps?" 

The men did not answer, but it was not needed. He heard Sansa draw a deep breath behind him, and looked over his shoulder. From another shrubbery a big man stepped out, with his large broad sword drawn. 

"No, little brother, they are not Joffrey's men. They are mine." All color went from Sandor's face. He desperately wished that all this was a nightmare, and that he soon would wake up at Sansa's side in their bed in Riverrun. But he didn't.

"Gregor" he whispered, moving so Sansa was not in his brother's view anymore.

"The one and only" Gregor sneered. "You see, I heard about your wedding, little brother, and ... well, I think it would be rude not to welcome my goodsister into our family ..."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! Comments make my day!


	29. Grey Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey Wind is having a bad feeling about Sandor and Sansa's outing. He knows something is watching them, and decide to send help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay! I know I promised this chapter to be a really long one, but Grey Wind refused to leave me alone - he wanted his own chapter. 
> 
> A big thanks to my new beta Ellstra!

Grey Wind paced along the wall of Riverrun. The big direwolf had had a bad feeling all day. It was in the air, making him snappy even at master. Because master didn’t understand. Master thought they were safe here, and they were – as long as they stayed _inside._

 There was someone out there. Grey Wind could smell them. The first few didn’t mind him much, they were just weak followers. But the last … the wolf shuddered. He didn’t like the smell of him, neither the feeling that the man was watching master’s house, waiting for someone.

Grey Wind wasn’t used to fear. He had not felt it too many times in his young life, but now he did. Because suddenly there were too many to protect and too few of him. He had always felt the need to be near and protect master. And now master had a mate. You protected your pack brother’s mates. And master’s female now gave off that special smell of pregnancy – his master would soon have little ones.

That was a big enough pack to try and protect for just him, Grey Wind. But master’s sister had suddenly come back, Grey Wind’s sister’s keeper.

His dead sister, the gentle one, who had loved the girl so much. His sister would have liked Grey Wind to look after her, even if she apparently also had found her mate and was going to have a litter.

 Grey Wind liked Sansa’s mate. He was a strong human, stronger than most, and he didn’t reek of deceit and lies like many of them did. And he cared for her. But he was still just human. He couldn’t smell this danger lurking around, watching Sansa and him, Sandor, his name apparently was.

 And today … Sansa and Sandor had ridden out on that black stallion, leaving them all behind. He had tried to come with them, knowing that he had to protect them, in honor of his sister, but master didn’t understand! He wanted Grey Wind to guard his mate while some of her brothers visited. So now he was out here, in the yard, waiting for strangers to come, to only then be secluded back within the castle. And by then, it could be too late …

 He growled low in his throat when he felt that strange smell grow heavier in the air. That man was getting excited, because he was getting closer to his prey. And that prey was Sansa. Sansa who was also pregnant. And that would make the man very angry. Grey wind didn’t know how he knew that but somehow it was just there, inside his brain, the answer. Sansa’s pup was in some way, that made sense to man but not to beast, a threat to this man. He needed to get rid of it. But Grey Wind could not let that happen! The pup was not out of Sansa’s tummy yet but he had heard it, felt a connection to it, and he wasn’t going to fail his dead’s sister.

 So that was why he threw his head back and howled, in broad daylight, trying to reach another sister, who was running in the wild with a big pack obeying her every whim. Maybe, just maybe Nymeria could help Sansa now when he couldn’t.

 Their pack was shattered but they were siblings. If Nymeria could hear him she would answer – of that he had no doubt.

And she did. Just a little while after his first long howl had died out he finally heard the familiar tune of his baby sister’s voice.

Grey Wind growled. The big man was strong and evil, a pure monster. But he was still just a man. And Nymeria would taste his blood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! Comments make my day!


	30. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Sandor at Gregor's mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long delay, especially with the cliffhangers of the last chapters! But my stepfather got a stroke in the middle of November, and at some time we were not even sure he would make it. He is stable now, though, but still pretty sick. 
> 
> Here it is, anyway - THE chapter when the couple is at Gregor's mercy. A warning is required (this is Gregor, after all) - this chapter contains some violence, graphic threats of violence and threats of sexual assault. 
> 
> I do not own the universe or the characters, I'm just borrowing them. Also, a big thanks to my beta, Ellstra!

“Bring the Stark girl to me” Gregor ordered. Sansa saw one of the two men lower his crossbow and draw a dagger before he slowly approached them. She could feel the fury radiate from her husband.

“Like fuck you will, cunt,” Sandor spat at the approaching man before he turned to his brother. “Leave her out of this, Gregor. She has nothing to do with it!”

Gregor laughed at that, a horrible, cold laugh that made Sansa shiver. All things she had ever feared, and everything she didn’t even know she _did_ fear existed in that laugh. It sounded nothing like Sandor’s warm, barking laugh.

“Oh, brother, brother,” Gregor sneered. “Still not seeing it, are you? Your little whore has _everything_ to do with this.”

“Don’t call her that!” Sandor barked threatening even though Sansa noticed a tremor pass through him at Gregor’s word.

Gregor laughed again, same cold laugh. The men who had been coming closer to Sandor and Sansa had stopped, now he and his comrade were doing the same thing Sansa did – just watching the two most feared warriors in Westeros argue with each other.

“Fine, fine, little brother. She is not a whore. But to be a hound’s bitch can’t be that much better, now, can it? Well, your little bitch has everything to do with this, Sandor. Did you really think that I was going to let you run off with the Stark girl, and marry her on top of that? You can’t be that deluded?”

Sandor had gotten completely still. When it didn’t seem like he would answer Sansa peeked out behind him and spat at Gregor:

“Why do you care if we are married? You have everything you wanted now, right? Sandor is disgraced in the King’s Guard, and in court. You have the king and queen’s favor, you are the only Clegane in King’s Landing. You won’t even see him anymore!”

“Quiet, Sansa!” Sandor rasped and pushed her behind him again. Gregor had turned his attention to her now, and he smiled a diabolical smile.

“Your little bitch has an attitude, Sandor,” he chuckled. “Of course you would have been too weak to take care of that. Well, no matter, I like a wench with a little spirit. As to answer _you_ , my lady, yes, all that is a treat to me, of course. Had Sandor deserted alone I would not have cared one whit what happened to him. But you … you change this, lady Stark.”

“Why?” Sansa said. “I don’t believe you would be offended on Joffrey’s account. You are not that kind of loyal.”

“Joffrey?” Gregor actually looked astonished. “That little prick? No, I don’t care a shit about his anger, you are right about that. Had you too run away on your own that would have almost been funny. But as it is, you just had to go with my wretched shit for a brother and let him marry you and fuck you. And that changes things.”

“Don’t tell me that the great _ser_ Gregor is jealous?” Sandor snorted. “Is that was all this is about?”

He sounded confident, but he was scared, Sansa could feel that. And to tell the truth, so was she.

Sandor laughed a cold laugh of his own, and it was scaring, but it could not compare to Gregor’s, in Sansa’s opinion. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing in this moment.

“Well, it actually makes sense, Gregor,” Sandor sneered. “While every single one of your wives were of good blood, they were not nobles. Then I married Sansa Stark, the princess of the North. A daughter of one of the oldest Houses in Westeros and a descendant of the First men. I – the scarred, disgraced little brother that isn’t even a knight. That’s got to hurt.”

Gregor frowned, and started breathing heavier. “I don’t give two shits of your little wife’s bloodline, Sandor. I would have come after you even if she were just a fisherman’s daughter. Of course, that she is the little noble beauty that she is doesn’t hurt when I take her for myself …”

“You never will, you fucking creep!” Sandor bellowed.

“No? Apparently, you have short memory, brother. Have I not always taken what I wanted to take? But you didn’t let me finish – I want you to know this, so you can think on it while I fuck your little wife bloody. You love her, you little retard. And she actually loves you, as hard as that is to believe. And that you would know love … well, I can’t tolerate that, now, can I? If you had lived out your little miserable life as you always have, whelp, with fucking whores, drinking your cheap wine and bark at every person who comes near you … then I would not have cared. That’s how it should be. So actually, every pain you two are about to endure is actually your fault.”

 _He is crazy!_ Sansa thought. _He actually is totally insane._ They had to get out of here somehow, or get help. Gregor would kill Sandor and rape her, and her baby … she pressed her hand to her belly. Gregor had probably not seen that she was pregnant yet, since she had been nearly concealed by Sandor, and he could not see it. What would he do then?

“Enough talking!” Gregor said. “Tie the whelp and bring me the Stark girl!”

The two men started coming closer again but Sandor just roared and charged at them with his sword. He had struggle lifting it due to the arrow in his shoulder but he was still as fast and fearsome as ever. The two men had great troubles advancing at him. Sansa took her chance and ran to hide behind some trees. She wasn’t going to leave Sandor but she had to hide her condition from Gregor and stay out of the way.

 Gregor roared when he saw that his prize was about to get away and she saw he was just going to charge after her, when one of the men who had gone down to his knee took an opportunity and drove his mailed fist into Sandor’s thigh, straight into his old wound. _No,_ Sansa thought.

Sandor screamed at the pain and his leg gave away. He fell down on his good knee and by then it was over. The two men held their swords at his throat, and Gregor laughed dangerously.

“If you don’t want your dog to get his throat cut, you better come out, Stark bitch.”

“Don’t, Sansa! Stay away!” Sandor yelled. His voice cracked a bit, probably because of the pain.

“Shut up, pup!” Gregor said and kicked Sandor into the stomach.

 _I can’t leave him like this_ , Sansa thought. _It’s because of me that Gregor came after him again. I can do this! I am a Stark, a wolf and I carry a Clegane. I must be brave!_

Sansa took a deep breath and stepped out behind the trees again. “Don’t hurt him,” she said.

“Oh, I won’t,” Gregor said with a disgusting smile. “Yet.”

Sansa walked closer up to them. Gregor followed her movements, smiling manically but when she was almost back at them, his smile vanished.

“ _What in the Seven fucking hells is that?_ ” he whispered and pointed to Sansa’s stomach. He got around Sandor and came closer to Sansa, grabbing her hair and dragging her closer to him. Sansa yelped from the pain.

Gregor’s black eyes, so unlike Sandor’s, seemed to burn a hole into Sansa’s soul. “You little whore … you actually let the dog fuck you so much that you are already with a litter? Or did you two start it earlier? Already in King’s Landing, maybe? Did my moron brother sneak into your chamber and planted his rotten seed into your little wolf cunt? Huh?” he shook Sansa like a rat, still holding her hair. Sansa screamed from the pain but she was still holding her hands possessively over her stomach.    

“Don’t hurt her, Gregor!” Sandor screamed. “Hurt me, not her!”

Gregor let go of Sansa’s hair and turned to his brother. “You fucking fool. Do you realize that you have made it even worse for your little whore? Before this, my plan were to kill you, then take her back to King’s Landing and demand her as a reward from that inbred bastard. But now … you have gotten her with child, brother. A child that must die …”

“ _NO_!” Sansa screamed. “Please, no! Take me back to King’s Landing if you want, but let Sandor live. And don’t hurt my baby … _please_ …”

Gregor spat at her feet. “You are a nice little wench. I would have liked you to be my new bride, even if you have rutted with the whelp. I would have had to wash your cunt with lye before our wedding night, sure, but it would be manageable. But now, when you’re carrying an heir to Sandor … I can’t allow that.”

“Why, Gregor?” Sandor roared. “Why must you kill an innocent child just because you hate me? Kill me if you want but Sansa and my child are not a threat to you. Sansa could make the child a Stark. Then you and your heirs are the only Cleganes …”

“I won’t have any!” Gregor bellowed and slapped Sandor’s face with such a force that his head snapped back with a dangerous crack from the neck. He then turned to Sansa and curled his huge fist around her throat.

“You would not think so, would you, Lady Stark? That a man such as myself couldn’t have children. But I can’t. The maester confirmed this some years ago. Too much milk of the poppy, you see, for my headaches. I can fuck until my cock falls off but my seed will never root. So a child from Sandor’s seed I cannot let that live. It has to go!”

“No …” Sansa whispered.

“Yes.” Gregor snorted. “I will try to fuck it out of you, first. If my cock doesn’t do the job, well, then you will have to fuck my sword. If that still doesn’t do it, then I will have to cut simply it out of you. He will watch. And then I’m going to burn you both alive, as I intended to burn him all those years ago.”

Sansa thought she was going to faint, she was so afraid for all of their lives now. They would never make it out of this alive. _It can’t end like this!_ she thought. _Someone, please … Mother, Warrior and Crone, please help your children!_

Then she suddenly felt a strong kick from the inside of her womb, and after that she heard a loud growl behind them. A growl she recognized even though she had not heard it in nearly two years and a half. She felt the sudden urge to smile and looked up into Gregor Clegane’s eyes.

They had widened and she could read astonished fear in them.

“Well, goodbrother …” she said, “Before all that, say hello to Nymeria …”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! Comments make my day!  
> NOTICE: I don't actually knows if too much "milk of the poppy" would make someone sterile, but I figured that it could be a reasonable side effect.


	31. A/N

I'm deeply sorry to disappoint you, but this is not an update. It's a notification.

I'm going to put all my stories on hold for a while, I don't know how long. I have worked myself into a pretty deep depression, and have hardly any energi to wake up in the mornings, let alone write. 

As some of you may know, my stepfather got a stroke in November. He survived, and he is getting better and better each day, but all this opened up a lot of old memories and wounds from when my real father was nearly dying from heart failure, when I was seven.

I have gotten medication and I am seeing a therapist, but as I said, I don't know how long this will go on. I hope you can bear with me.

 

Love, my dear readers!  

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!


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